Devil's Overlady
by Omega Overlord
Summary: Story 6: Persephone Killgore, the only daughter of the God of Evil, finally reaches for the spotlight solo. But, as the saying goes, the best laid plans...
1. Prologue

Prologue: A Lady's Pride

Netherworld: Balcony

Persephone Killgore didn't consider herself a judgmental person, quite the opposing mindset according to some of her sister's-in-law. She was simply very opinionated. And she was entitled to her opinion, as was she entitled to the ability to share it. The old adage of "if you don't have something nice to say…" was a load of, well, shit. She tried to avoid using language like that, even if only mentally. It tarnished her image to speak that way, and thinking it was a step towards speaking it. Yes, she'd slipped up a bit during her "misadventure" upon Middle Earth, but she figured she deserved a by on that. She had been on the receiving end of some of the worst luck in the history, with a minor bit of poor execution/overlooking details.

Coming back to her opinionated nature, she was doing her very best to bite her tongue as her father led her, what, "niece?" No, her nephew's wife, whatever the correct term for that was. Anyway, Samus was finally getting back into the house after some extensive reconstructive surgery. There were no marks, obvious even if she hadn't known about her father's plans for the durium replacement implants. She knew that because she had walked in on the newest member of the family changing out of the tacky hospital gown. As a small side note, she was incredibly amused by how out-of-sorts Samus was over being put in a skirt. The woman had been red in the face for the last five minutes, getting fussed over by Aunt Sophitia, whom she _knew_ was the one who had picked the skirt out.

She looked down at the dainty cup of tea in her hand, a nice oriental blend, and muttered to herself. " **Nearly die during sex, suddenly the center of attention. Makes sense I suppose.** " She snickered lightly. " **I know she won't be doing that again.** "

A voice slithered into her ear. " **Mocking the weak, are we daughter?** "

She let out a small yelp, nearly spilling her tea, as she turned. " **Daddy, don't DO that!** "

Her father straightened up from whispering in her ear. " **Don't get me wrong, you are well within your rights to do so. You** _ **are**_ **the daughter of the god of Evil, with all the implications that carries.** " Currently Erasmus was not wearing his helmet, so she could see the man smiling. " **Just try to keep that sort of talk to a minimum around family.** " There was a pause in which her father's grin grew a tad wider. " **Who knows, they might start to grow on you if you take the time to socialize.** "

She shot a glance over at the crowd. " **I think, Samus right? I can't fathom that we have all that much in common if she's that uncomfortable in a simple skirt.** " She put one delicate hand to her chest to emphasize her point. " **I am a feminine lady who likes feminine things. Something she seems to care not one whit for.** "

The god's grin twisted into a smirk. " **Maybe so. But she is self-conscious enough to be embarrassed about her attire. I don't imagine it would take much persuasion, or cajoling if you prefer, to stick Samus in a dress, particularly from you. Think of how amusing that would be.** "

She did entertain the thought, and it did seem pretty funny. " **Are you seriously advocating for me to give Samus heck, just for laughs?** "

The man's smirk showed a smidge of teeth. " **If you like, consider it hazing. I know you, Persephone. You enjoy needling others, and Samus is an easy mark that is unlikely to retaliate.** " The smirk evaporated. " **And I would much rather you torment Samus than your sibling or nephew, or me, or any of your aunts.** "

She let out a false, uneasy laugh. " **No, ah, I'd never dream of pulling a prank on you again. Never, never again.** "

Her father had recently dropped the hammer on her and Acheron's prank war. And he had done so in an inspired, and malevolent fashion. Acheron had been punished with a curse of impotence put in the flask of rum that the self-titled pirate always carried around. A curse that had lasted for three months. Three months without fulfilling sex, because she knew damn well that Acheron had tried anyway, was tantamount to torture for her brother. She, she had been cursed to have her hair fall out, very nearly torture for someone as admittedly vain as she was. In addition her magic had gone completely haywire, usually backfiring horribly, explosively, and right at her fingertips. Also for three months. She still got a twinge of fear whenever she summoned her magic. But the message had been crystal clear, DON'T FUCK AROUND IN THE HOUSE!

Her father added something else with a smile. " **Besides, Bjorn will probably get a kick out of it, provided whatever you do is within reasonable taste.** " The smile turned malefic. " **After all…** " She could have sworn the entire area grew darker. " **I'm sure none of us here wish another** _ **corrective measure**_ **to be taken, no?** "

She felt the blood drain from her face. " **No, no no no. I'm very certain of that.** "

Like a switch, her father's face resumed its cool, yet jovial expression. " **Fantastic. Now, what will your first order of business be? A full princess dress with all the bells and whistles? I think that would be quite amusing, no?** "

In spite of her slowly dwindling terror over her father's promise of "corrective measures" she did think about the suggestion. She knew _exactly_ what her elder was getting at. After all, she had one of those exact dresses she dearly liked to wear for occasions in which she wouldn't be called upon to dance. As pretty as it was, she somehow always seemed to develop two left feet whenever she wore it. And that was in spite of never tripping on the hem.

She coughed lightly, and finished her tea in one long sip. " **As much as I do enjoy this conversation, I do have matters elsewhere I must attend to. You understand.** "

Proving her right, the response she got was one of a knowing eyebrow twitch. " **Ah, and this would be that world you were softening for conquest. The one in which you were surreptitiously using Bjorn as a battering ram?** "

Her mood plummeted again. " **Er, yes, that one.** "

Her father gave her a neutral gaze. " **Persephone, you do realize that none of us take issue with your actions, especially not Bjorn. What we take issue with is you simply doing it without letting anyone else know, and treating Bjorn like a pawn.** "

She had a habit of rolling her eyes at this, more so when it came from someone like her mother, or aunts. When it came from her father, she listened, even though she had been hearing it multiple times since she'd been caught out by Bjorn mentioning the adventuring. The lesson was not lost on her, but she was very, very upset over the fact that she was going to be limited to the thrice damned _minions_. They stank, they stared like lechers, they broke _everything_ unless constantly monitored and told otherwise. She was more likely to obliterate them than any enemies were!

Eventually, she earnestly answered her father's comment. " **I, I know. But, you know I just don't do close quarters. Bjorn loves that sort of thing, so I just didn't, ah, never mind. That sounds like an excuse even to me.** "

The god's expression melted into a smile. " **Well, at least you admit it. Progress is progress.** " Her father gestured towards the walls of the Netherworld. " **Are you setting off immediately? Or do you have a moment?** "

She was the type to jump to conclusions. She was working on it, but nonetheless she had to assume that her father was going to give her something. He'd done the same thing for Bjorn, what with that utterly enormous sword. Acheron had gotten gifted that absurd mace, not that he used it all that much now that he could freely manifest different firearms with, she so often forgot that thing's name, Soul Calibur. She was the only one that hadn't received a gift weapon from her father. But, then again she hadn't really had the ambition to go out on her own before. And she'd sort of ambushed her father and brother for that little Middle Earth excursion.

She followed her father down a flight of stairs and deeper into the obsidian monolith that was their home, and as she did she, at least in tone, innocently aired the appropriate question. " **So, what is this thing you need a moment of my time for?** "

Erasmus looked over his shoulder as he walked, smirking lightly. " **Don't feign ignorance, daughter. You're a smart girl, you know exactly what this is about.** "

Suspicions confirmed she shut up and walked in silence, focusing primarily on her father's broad, armored shoulders while placing her heels just so to avoid slipping or anything else embarrassing. Certainly, she _could_ void the problem posed by her footwear by simply wearing something more practical, say, she shuddered to consider it, simple boots. But, as her father had mentioned only a little while ago, she was the daughter of a god. That carried with it certain prerogatives. And first among those in her mind was a license to be as impractical as she darn well pleased. A trait she shared with her mother, truth be told. So she _would_ wear a dress and heels on a journey into hostile territory, and she'd look fantastic while doing it.

Her father stopped and she almost bumped into him, realizing shortly afterwards that they had, logically, arrived in Erasmus's personal forge. Different only, insofar as she could tell, in its isolation from meddlesome minions and potential distractions. She'd watched him work here once, for a short time. It had been a singularly monotonous experience. Perhaps her mother or aunts derived some erotic satisfaction from watching her sire beat metal into shape with a large hammer/his bare hands, typically while bereft of clothing from the waist up, but she did not. She would have been quite disturbed if she did.

Erasmus approached the anvil in the center of the space, a finely engraved thing that stood on a small dais an unbearably short distance from the molten metal basins behind it, at least for her, and retrieved a long, silvery rod before offering it to her. " **I hope I wasn't too presumptuous when deciding what to make you.** " The god used a wisp of hellish flame to erase a blemish that only he could see. " **You never seemed to really take to any of the weaponry I provided when you were somewhat younger. It seemed to me that a casting focus would be more appropriate, given some leeway for utility.** "

In the midst of her father's idle musing she accepted the staff, a gleeful smile crossing her face as her fingers likewise crossed up and down the length of the shaft. Her slender fingers found easy purchase on the textured metal, metal carved intricately with hundreds of unique arcane runes the size of a fingernail. The base featured a convenient blade roughly twenty centimeters in length. Nothing all too impressive, but far better than nothing if she were pressured and unable to blow the offender away with a spell. But, given her preference for ranged combat, she found the crown, quite literally, of the staff the most delightful. Barbed with soaring spines arranged in a perfect circle, the tines suspended an arcane gem in their midst. Her delight soared further when she realized that the gem in question was the very one she had given to her father for his birthday some years ago, albeit amplified to astounding levels.

At her delighted exclamation her father started smiling. " **I'll take that as a sign that I've done well.** "

She scowled lightly. " **Daddy, you really need my approval for something like this?** "

A smirk. " **Oh, no, I** _ **know**_ **that I've done a good job. I accept nothing less from myself. It just pleases me that you like it.** " The god reached out and tapped the gem. " **Anything happens, you remember this; I may have more raw power than you by a mile, your own words, but you, you are the most talented mage I have ever encountered. Remember that.** "

Hearing that praise made her heart swell with pride. And it made her think of all the times, growing up, that she'd come up with something new, usually something geared towards widespread destruction. Her father would drop everything, suspend an active military campaign even, just to race home and see whatever she'd done. When she was thirteen, she'd actually asked if she could go with him and use it. She'd expected to hear a "no" like every time before, but he'd let her. He'd held her hand and led her right to the front lines. And she'd brought fire and lightning down from the sky over ninety square miles, bringing ruin to an entire country. It had been glorious.

Her father spoke up. " **Now then, this world you intend to conquer. Tell me about it, because I'm sure you've done your due diligence on it.** "

She smiled lightly. " **Oh, nothing too much interesting. A church that worships a demon named Sparda, rampant hideous demons, general fun stuff. I intend to make the demons do most of my dirty work.** " She leaned on her staff experimentally, finding it more than adequate in that regard. " **But my first order of business is visiting this gaudy church in the biggest city. Their big shot priest is going to be pontificating, or whatever it is priests do. I'm going to kill him after the service, cause some unrest.** "

The god didn't verbally answer. Instead, all he did was quizzically raise an eyebrow. She took it as a good sign that he wasn't questioning her plan. It said he believed in her, even if he said that frequently already.


	2. Demonic Intervention

Chapter 1: Demonic Intervention

Fortuna:

Persephone Killgore let out a long sigh as she slowly, deliberately picked her way through the city streets. She found herself tugging repeatedly at the "outfit" she was wearing, primarily because it didn't fit. These religious twats were so moronically modest, she'd stick out like a neon sign if she wore anything that she'd usually wear. Which rather defeated the purpose of _sneaking_ into the town to murder their beloved religious leader. So, that left her with what essentially amounted to a nun habit, in the drabbest shade of tan imaginable. Horrid, just, utterly horrid. Her vanity was somewhat assuaged by the fact that she was still drawing glares of envy from women, and barely disguised stares of lust from the men. So, even in a nun habit she was a knockout, and for practically Puritan people. Her pride could accept that. Not that she could really hide her figure no matter what she did, chest particularly, but she wouldn't want to. Her only truly otherworldly features were her alabaster skin and glowing eyes. Silver hair was fine, the curvaceous body of a goddess was fine. As long as no one noticed the former two features she'd be fine.

She heard a clatter overhead, and a snide smile split her lips. That was, she supposed, the only figurative bright spot in this situation. She had the minions. Yes, all of her complaints about them were completely valid. But at least they were loyal to a fault. They'd follow any order she gave them without question or pause, even if she told them to dive into a fire. Which she actually had done on occasion, just for laughs. Not the green ones though, never them. They smelled bad enough when they weren't burning. Which brought to mind a question she was currently pondering, just how was she going to kill the poor old man? Let the minions do it? Red's throwing a surprise fireball barrage from the shadows? Brown's rushing the stage and clubbing him to death in front of the horrified crowd? Green's dropping from above in a flurry of frenzied stabbing?

Sure, she could always just do it herself. One pointed finger and the priest would be a pile of ash in less time than it took most people to blink. But, so many witnesses would just mean the frightened people would have a face to put to their "enemy." If the minions did it, they'd just be taken as demons/monsters and the people would panic. Which fit her plan perfectly.

She could see it unfolding in her mind's eye. One assassination, followed by a handful of smaller ones as other enterprising individuals stood up to take charge, and the public would be clamoring for a leader. She had seeded rumors of a mighty sorceress residing at Castle Fortuna, not that far outside of town. A sorceress with the power to do almost anything. Cause enough carnage, the people would come crawling to her and beg to be ruled. She couldn't ask for a better plan.

She stopped by the fountain outside the opera house and chanced a look up. She was taller than most of the other people here, so she should be fine. Like most religious people she had encountered, or heard about secondhand from her father, the modest, frugal lifestyles were seemingly simply that way so that the people could lavish all of their monetary gains on their church/house of worship, opera houses too. Because whatever she thought of people of faith they did very, very good work when building. The opera house was nothing short of a palace from the outside. A white marble castle seemingly gilded on every possible edge. Soaring buttresses, huge stained-glass windows, and of course that giant statue of the "demon knight" Sparda on the inside. The demon that turned his back on his kind to love a human woman, and protect humanity. The statue would be the first thing to go, as soon as she could swing it without the people rioting.

She sighed, closed her eyes to lower them without giving herself away, and walked into the opera to take a seat in the pew, or what might as well be one, furthest to the back. She silently ordered the crowd of minions onto the roof, to lie in wait.

She looked to the stage, saw a young girl there, and frowned before muttering to herself. "Wonderful, we get a show before the sermon. How long do I have to wait before that old man shows up?"

The girl, a redhead, started singing, and after a few moments her frown reversed itself. The singer was actually rather good. She was better, but the redhead wasn't bad. Before she knew it, she was humming along, and mere moments later she was singing along about half a beat behind the girl on the stage, albeit at a much lower volume. She had some presence of mind with regards to her plan, in the face of music. Neither her father, her brother, nor any of her aunts knew about her minor obsession with song. And she didn't plan on sharing that.

She felt a hand touch her right shoulder, and she stopped singing to look. " **Yes?** "

An older woman, possibly late sixties, was warmly looking at her and smiling broadly. "You have such a wonderful voice! You must be planning on singing for the church soon, yes?"

She fought to keep a frown off of her face, and eventually answered evenly, with a slight touch of false humility. " **No, no I really don't.** "

The old woman looked massively disappointed. "Oh, that's such a shame. I daresay you're even better than dear Kyrie."

She smirked internally at the outside confirmation of her assessment, but outwardly acted suitably humble. " **Well, thank you very much. I appreciate the praise, I really do.** "

That matter put to rest, at least for now, she let out a sigh and went back to just listening. According to her refined musical ear the piece was almost over, and she could refrain from lapsing back into singing along until the preaching started. Behind her, one of the doors opened, and she turned to look. A young man in a red and blue long coat, primarily blue, and one arm in a sling walked in. He had this air of disdain about him, like this whole convocation was beneath him, and she silently empathized with him on that. On second glance, he was actually rather cute, in a borderline effeminate way. At least his face was, she couldn't quite tell south of his neck.

By chance, or that strain of mutual disdain, the young man slipped into the pew right next to her and immediately kicked his feet up on the pew in front of them. As the boy's eyes wandered they eventually hit upon her, and, as per usual, the roving eyes stopped. Unlike usual, she looked back. She tilted her head back just far enough that the lower half of her face could be seen, smiled, crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and lifted flirtatiously. She succeeded dramatically in shooting a violent blush to the young man's face, and in getting him to abruptly avert his gaze. Of course, only a few seconds later, he stole a furtive glance back. She smiled to herself, chuckled quietly, and turned her attention back to the stage. The young woman, Kyrie or whatever, was getting off of the stage and coming right this way.

Her smile warped into a smirk. " **Oh how cute, that's his girlfriend. Naughty, naughty!** "

Back on the stage, an old man took the girl's place. And she immediately tuned out whatever it was that he was going to say. She'd heard the whole trite story before and it bored her. Instead, she turned her mental attention towards the cadre of minions she'd directed to the roof. When she did though, she got no mental response at all. That, should not have been happening. Empty-headed as the minions were she should have at least gotten some small sense of acknowledgement.

The words 'let us pray' wafted through the air, and it was immediately followed by a loud shattering. Glass rained down from above, the old man, Sanctus she thought, cowered as shards fell upon him, followed by a lone figure in all red. Ironically just like what she would have done. The deviation occurred when that lone figure drew a gun and put a bullet right in the head of the old priest, point blank.

There was a moment of silence, as no one in the opera house could fully believe what had just happened. She however, managed to eke out a few quiet words. " **That, that was not according to plan.** "

Chaos erupted. A male cry of "Your Holiness" split the air, and the more militant of the assembled drew swords and rushed at the figure in red, and it was very much like watching serfs armed with sticks try to assault her father, and just as futile. Like twigs in a hurricane each and every so called "knight" of the Order if the Sword was put to the sword as if they threw themselves upon it. It was actually quite impressive. That was when the boy she had been "flirting" with dove in out of the corner of her eye and dropkicked the red dressed man in the face, pulled out a gun of his own and started shooting. He didn't seem to hit anything, but it was still entertaining.

An island of calm amidst the panicking civilians, she scowled, but laughed to herself. " **Well, my plan might have gone awry, but at least I get a good show as a consolation prize.** "

That thought in mind she rose from her seat and relocated to the back of the middle pews. She sat down, pulled her concealing hood back enough so that she could look up without tilting her head, and kicked back in the most lady-like fashion she could manage. The only thing she was missing, and as more of a silent joke than anything else, was a bucket of popcorn. The two men had leapt to the top of the Sparda statue, displaying superhuman ability that she had been unaware of on this plane prior to now, and were exchanging gunfire. It was hard to tell, bullets being bullets and all, but she suspected that the two were actually shooting each other's shots out of the air. One of those deflected shots smashed through a pew moderately nearby, so she erected a minor magical barrier between the fighters and herself. Best to hedge her bets this time. The whole display though, there was so much flair that she momentarily wondered if this was a real fight at all. But, the amount of rage on Blue-coat's face was something that you couldn't fake.

Mr. Blue-coat dropped out of sight for a moment, and it took another before she realized that he had fallen, or chosen to drop, down between the sword of the statue and the statue itself. Tactically speaking, not a good spot to be in. No room to move, totally exposed to Mr. Red-coat. Apparently, Blue agreed with that assessment, and took a step to correct that. She was not entirely prepared though, for that step to be pushing the stone sword out of the statue's grip. Now, had she not moved from her initial seat this would not have been a problem, as it was, she was right in the path of the falling, very, very heavy object. And the barrier she had put up was in no way up to the task of deflecting something of this magnitude.

Her eyes widened as the stone blade fell, and out of a knee jerk reaction she let out a yelp as she magically swatted the giant weapon aside, off to her left. There was, oddly, a scream, followed by a horrendous squelching sound. She paused, turned to look, and found what appeared to be the body of the girl that had been singing squished beneath the shunted statuary. A small crushed, blue box was held in one dead hand.

Another cry rang out, one that was intelligible as a word. "KYRIE!"

She looked back to the duel. Both combatants had stopped fighting, and had turned to gaze upon the scene as she had. Blue-coat had one hand, the shockingly not-wounded one that had been in the sling and only now revealed as a blue, glowing, demonic accessory, extended towards the dead girl. Red-coat was seemingly taking the event in stride, though she did see a flicker of sadness cross his face.

Blue-coat turned his gaze upon her, murder in his eyes. "YOU!"

She slowly looked back at the dead girl, back to Blue-coat, back to the body, before sheepishly grinning and summoning her staff with a purposeful gesture. " **Ah, oops?** " Not for a second thinking that was going to work she immediately teleported over to one of the opera house doors. " **Exiting stage left.** "

Without allowing even a nanosecond to pass she teleported again, crossing the courtyard in two magical bounds to reach the relative safety of the fleeing crowd. Blending in with the masses she silently congratulated herself for mastering that particular brand of magic so quickly. Because otherwise, well, she didn't know what that boy was capable of and it was prudent to run until she did.

More screaming started, farther ahead, and she snarled. " **Now what?** "

That question was answered promptly by a hideous creature that looked like a patchwork, animated burlap sack with a huge cleaver where one of its limbs should have been leaping through the air in front of her before flailing about and eviscerating one of the civilians. She knew out of short study that this was a demon. What she did not immediately understand was why. Similar demons were chasing the crowd, now fleeing in the exact opposite direction, in droves. Such concentrations of demons were unheard of in these parts, in this time.

She stood her ground, sneering. " **Nothing can ever just go my way without a hitch, can it?** "

She promptly did three things. One, she grabbed the greatest concentration of fabric of her disguise and tore the offending thing away in one fluid motion, revealing her true form, and proper attire, in all her regal glory. Two, she leveled her finger at the closest demon and unleashed a bolt of violet lighting, turning that demon and the three near to it into black ash. Three, she planted the blade end of her staff in the ground immediately to the fore and leveled an imperious glare at the demonic hoards.

" **I don't know why you're all here, nor do I care. What I do currently care about is making my way to Castle Fortuna, something you lot are collectively impeding.** " She focused power in the staff's gem, bathing the area in a violet glow, even midday. " **If any of you had brains I might say you should feel sorry for yourselves, as none of you do, I'll just vaporize you all and be done with it.** " A smirk split her lips and she casually ran a hand through her long hair. " **Besides, it'll be good for my image carving through the forces of Hell. I intended for these people to see me as their savior anyway. Makes no difference to me if it's for leading them through turmoil, or through simple, if insincere, heroics.** "

Speech finished, she lobbed the collected power forward and set off a chain-reaction detonation. Demons exploded into foul-smelling mist as the blades of the departed flew away and cut through other demons. A follow-up bolt arced between five more, electrocuting them and subsequently vaporizing them as well. Three more demons, ones with cleavers where their legs should logically be, scrambled over iron fences to leap through the air at her.

Her smirk persisted. " **Oh no you don't.** "

She raised her free hand, paused for maximum effect, and snapped her fingers. The resultant thunderclap would seem impossibly loud to any onlooker, and indeed the sheer sound was more than enough to burst each of the encroaching demons. But to her it was a mere party trick. Well, technically all of her go to spells were such. But she had a relatively simple battle strategy. "Don't get hit," and "throw lightning at it till it dies." If for some reason lightning wasn't working, go to cold/ice. Then raw darkness, and fire if all else failed.

Such was her destructive force she was able to maintain a fairly leisurely pace as she exited the city. Which gave her the time to ponder just what exactly was going on here. There was no justifiable, natural reason for such a sudden, large concentration of demons. Someone had to have summoned them. The question was, 'who?' She knew from her scouting expeditions that the Order of the Sword had been building things, one very large thing right in the center of Castle Fortuna in fact, but why would such a religion deliberately infest its city with hellspawn? She could investigate further when she arrived back at Castle Fortuna and made herself comfortable. But, before that could happen…

Her footsteps had brought her to a small, now obviously abandoned, mining town in the hills before the ambient temperature started dropping due to elevation. An identical structure to the one she planned on studying in the castle stood high on a ridge in this canyon, and as she watched the flat side she was looking at began to glow red.

A scowl twisted her face. " **Really now, if that's what those things are, how stupid could the Order be?** "

Proving her point, out of the stone leapt what she would otherwise call a giant centaur. Only this thing was on fire and had a dog's face, with some minor details like soaring shoulder spines, clawed feet, and cracked lava skin. The demon, obviously, let out a roar that set the flimsy buildings ablaze before slowly marching her way.

The beast spoke with a voice, _shockingly_ , like crackling flames. "Ah, the human world. It's been a while…"

She did not budge as the demon approached, and passed by while completely ignoring her. She could have, if she wanted to (she did not), reached out and tapped the flat side of the giant sword it was carrying in one hand it came that close. Deeply insulted over being overlooked like that, she waited until the demon reached the other end of the shantytown before raising her hand and snapping her fingers, extinguishing the burning flames with the sudden sound.

She spoke while taking one step, placing herself dead center of the ghost-town. " **You know, if I had wanted demons shaking things up here I would have summoned them myself. Maybe you should consider that.** "

The beast let out a loud snort, exuding a small cloud of swirling embers from its nostrils. "How curious. When I last visited this world two thousand years ago, there was no such human as the likes of you."

She casually gazed at her own hand, arcing a few sparks between her graceful fingers. " **Well, that's likely because I'm not wholly human.** " Without warning she flung a "weak" lightning bolt and struck the demon square on the nose. " **Convinced?** "

If nothing else, she'd made it mad. "GRAH! Arrogant insect! You will suffer for that!"

It lunged towards her, sword first, and she raised her hand to block the point with a barrier of arcane force. She flinched only slightly upon impact, realizing that the demon was a fair bit stronger than it looked. But, with a slight push she repelled the attack, sending a doubtlessly painful shock up the demon's sword arm.

Eyes gleaming with malevolence, the beast pointed at her with its sword. "A futile effort. Now you face me. I, Berial, the conqueror of the fire Hell!"

She faked a yawn before coyly smirking. " **And that's what I think of that.** " To avoid the immediate reprisal for her glibness she teleported away, directly behind the demon, where she mouthed off again. " **I mean really, one layer of Hell? I'll bet I could do the same without even getting one of my dresses singed.** "

Now practically berserk from the insults Berial whirled about and drove towards where she had stood with every shred of strength its demonic muscle could muster. Of course, she was already gone. The nice part about teleportation was that she could instantly arrive at any point she could see with minimal effort. Very handy for toying with her enemies.

She whistled playfully. " **Over here.** "

As the fire demon whirled again to face, and subsequently lunge, at her she made a small upwards gesture with her free hand. Two conjured hands constructed of raw electricity appeared in front of Berial's front legs, and when the demon surged forward it fell forward onto its face magnificently as her conjurations seized and dragged down on its forelimbs. Still at a good range, she drew her arm back, palm open, and thrust her arm forward, closing it into a fist as she went. A similar, albeit larger, fist of condensed lightning shot forth and nailed the demon dead center of its forehead, sending the beast tumbling backwards in a heap so hard that its flames went out.

She looked at her own hand, twisted it idly about, and let out a satisfied 'hmph'. " **Not bad, definitely not bad for a first time trial. Certainly has a lot more kinetic force than a simple bolt.** "

Speaking of which, she used her staff hand to bring down a rain of those bolts upon the downed demon. Anything else would have been dead, but Berial got right back up with a roar of fury and reared, reigniting its flames and causing geysers of flame to sprout up at seemingly random locations all over the canyon floor. One such geyser opened up not two feet from her, and before she could move several scattering embers struck the fabric of her dress, setting it ablaze wherever they touched. With a very undignified shriek she slapped at the flames to put them out, but not before each one burned a hole in her dress, one of her _favorite_ dresses.

She sent a glare towards Berial after she teleported away again for proper spacing. " **That, was a** _ **huge**_ **mistake on your part.** "

She did two different things next. One, she dropped an obvious, and highly telegraphed lightning bolt which Berial easily dodged. Two, she immediately threw another lightning/fist spell and aimed slightly lower, striking the demon in the gut hard enough to force the beast to rear. Once that was accomplished she turned her free hand over and brought up her index and middle finger in one motion, conjuring a geyser of lightning beneath the imbalanced demon. The attack was potent enough to lift the demon into the air, and re-extinguish its flames. Not wasting an opportunity to take advantage of what was clearly a vulnerable state of the demon she reached out with her staff, enveloping the beast in a scintillating cocoon of electric brilliance and keeping it aloft.

She drew Berial close, about ten meters away, and made a deliberate effort to make her voice coy again. " **So, are you going to beg my forgiveness?** "

Predictably, the answer was first a sneer. "Do your worst, witch. I am beyond your ken."

An evil smile, one which she had learned by imitating her father, spread her lips. " **A very, very poor choice of words on your part.** "

She brought up her free hand, palm open and mimed squeezing. Of course, this being magic, she did in fact start squeezing the demon inside the electric cocoon, very painfully so if the roaring of agony was any indication.

She smiled genuinely, not needing any effort to sound pleased now. " **See? This is what happens when you spit on my offer of mercy. I** _ **would**_ **have just enslaved you, maybe stood on your back for dramatic effect when reentering Fortuna as its beloved savior. But no, you just had to be spiteful.** " A high laugh escaped her. " **Oh but who am I to talk, I'm being incredibly spiteful right now! Spiteful, malicious, petty… I mean you only scorched a few holes in a dress! Who would painfully murder someone, demon or not, for damaging a dress that can be easily repaired?** " She slammed the demon onto the ground with a gesture so she could look it straight in the eye. " **Why, the daughter of the God of Evil, that's who.** "

Just as it fully dawned on the demon what she had said she finished crushing it into a large ball of molten ichor. When she let go streams of flame lazily sailed past her back into the stone monolith that they had come from, but she was satisfied with the humiliation she had visited upon the self-proclaimed "conqueror," assuming that the thing had actually survived.

That done, she thumbed one of the scorched holes in her dress, one about seven centimeters down her right thigh, and let out a sad sigh. Yes, she could fairly easily repair it with magic so that it would look perfectly whole to the untrained eye. But she would know, as would anyone else who knew a single thing about high fashion. The fabric would be just half a shade or so off from the rest of the dark purple of the undamaged cloth. It wasn't even worth thinking about any damage to her ivory skin. She wore two arcanium earrings infused with the most potent regenerative magic that either she or her father could infuse the metal with. Admittedly her father had more raw power than she did in such regards. But, point being, her skin would remain perfectly flawless.

She started walking, mumbling lightly to herself. " **It IS a shame, but I do have other outfits that look just as good. And more than a few that are a little more practical for wearing in a castle partially frozen over. Maybe that one with the blue velvet and lynx fur trim. Velvet is a tad heavier than silk so it should be warmer…** "

Above the ridge ahead she could just see the tip of one of the castle parapets. Her home away from home. Demons on the loose, someone would come to start poking around. And when they did, she would have her pawn. The first of many perhaps. A short giggle escaped her as a thought crossed her mind. She halfway wouldn't mind if the one who came was that boy from Fortuna, provided she could talk him down from trying to murder her, but to her credit her hair wasn't the only thing she possessed that was silver. She could probably logic her way around it. That would actually be rather funny…


	3. Silver Tongue

Chapter 2: Silver Tongue

Castle Fortuna:

Persephone Killgore turned herself left and right in the light of the blue witch-fire that warmed the room, making sure to double check every possible angle of her appearance in the full-length mirror before her. She'd been at this for the last thirty minutes, but who was counting? It wasn't as if she could be taken by surprise. She'd set up dozens of proximity alarms around the entire castle. And this entire section of the castle had been warded against demonic incursions since long before that incident in town. Absolutely nothing was getting into or out of this castle without her knowledge.

She let out a loud 'hmm' and ceased posturing. " **I suppose this will do.** "

She had replaced her damaged dress with a thicker velvet one, one of deep almost-black blue with grey lynx-fur trim around the collar and cleavage v-neck. A waist-length cloak of the same color trimmed in white mink fur hung from her shoulders by a silver chain. She wore two gloves similar to the aforementioned articles, reaching to just above her elbows. An amethyst was set into the back of each hand surrounded by silver filigree. She'd chosen a set of black boots that went up to just below her knee. Like the gloves, they were decorated by silver inlay. To her, the entire ensemble said "sorceress queen" rather assertively.

She looked down and let out a thoughtful 'hmm.' " **I wonder though. I'm not showing off too much cleavage am I?** " She looked into the mirror again. " **I mean, I want to flaunt what I've got but I'm showing about sixty percent of boob here. There has to be a fine line between 'sexy' and 'trashy.' But, mother never really seems to care. And father surely doesn't think what mother usually wears crosses any lines.** " She scooped her chest with both arms, a requirement, and just stared for a long moment. " **Will you two quit growing already? I already have enough trouble with my clothing as it is.** "

Scientifically, as she had discovered on her own initiative, she had a "condition," not technically a disease, known as bilateral macromastia. It was why she had already been so well-endowed even as a teenager barely out of puberty. As she kept getting older, well, the obvious happened. She was only in her early twenties, and she was already roughly twice as chesty as her mother. She hadn't gotten around to strapping a measuring tape around them for a while now, focused as she was on setting up this world's domino fall, but she'd have to soon. Six months ago they'd been a staggering one hundred and eighty centimeters. She didn't physically have a problem with that, her partially divine physiology and all. Nor did she at all mind the stares she received _everywhere_ she went. Just…

As she stood there in silent thought she felt a light 'ping' go off in her head. Someone was approaching Castle Fortuna. Immediately she dropped the wardrobe thoughts and drew her staff over to her while moving to the window facing the castle causeway. That was the approach alarm that had gone off, and she'd be thrice damned before she let her clothing, or her freakishly large chest, get in the way of reaping a successful campaign in this world.

She pushed the glass open, letting in a gust of frigid air that whipped her long silver hair back like a flag, and shot her gaze into the blizzard. After a moment of fruitless searching she waved a hand, weaving magic into the air to slightly calm the storm. This magic revealed what she had wanted to see, and simultaneously slightly disappointed her. The encroaching individual was not, in fact, that young man in a blue coat from town. Instead, it was a lithe, dark-skinned woman in an outfit that she wouldn't be caught dead wearing, firmly over the line into "trashy." No, "slutty" was far, far more apt. But it was all white so, Order of the Sword? She couldn't imagine that anyone else would be poking around with a demonic invasion going on. So, they were probably able to handle themselves.

She waited for the woman to saunter across the entire causeway and enter the castle. Immediately thereafter she waved her hand and set the blizzard back to full strength, with a little more of a kick. No need to have more than one interloper at a time scuttling around. She would find out what this person wanted, and then move on to the next one. Perhaps they were the ideological type. The type that might be misguided by a revelation about their own Order?

She shut the window and gestured the witch-fire to her, setting it atop her staff as one would a torch flame. She likewise then set her staff to levitate ahead of her within easy reach. Leisurely, she set off at an even pace through the library that she had claimed. Many candles of various colors, all witch-flame, lit the area. She gone with random colors mostly out of whimsy. What they showed was a vast trove of lore, much of it very helpfully on demonic arcana. Shelves reached very near to the ceiling containing exhaustive, encyclopedic information on the different rudimentary breeds of demon. And she had come to one very sound conclusion at the end of her extensive research: demons were ugly as sin, no pun intended, and completely unsuitable for her. She expected that their extra-planar, bestial nature would make them resistant to her commands were she to use Evil Presence upon them. True, she could make her orders very specific to guard against that, but the slightest slip up and she'd be facing mass betrayal. Not to mention, again, ugly as sin. If only she could find something as plentiful as the demons, but beautiful and near completely bereft of will.

She paused at the edge of her warded domicile, not in any particular hurry, and spoke to the air. " **If there were anyone else here I think I would make them a bet that there are demons just waiting for me on the other side of this door.** " She chuckled. " **Oh, I doubt anyone here would take that though. It's rather a given.** "

True enough, when she opened the door with a gentle drawing gesture a trio of the "Frost" demons were standing right on the other side, snarling and futilely slashing their cold claws at the air on the other side of her ward. They couldn't get through or attack her, the reverse was not true. She raised her left hand, pointed, smiled, and shot a narrow lance of flame that punctured the trio in one shot. True she didn't like fire as much as her father did, but seeing as they were _ice_ demons it seemed completely logical to just end them quickly with flame. And since they more or less melted instead of burning she didn't need to think about a stench sticking to her. Win, win.

Of a mind to confront the interloper quickly she headed straight to the castle great hall/foyer, taking a shortcut by teleporting through several walls via indoor windows that she herself had put in for that express purpose. Windows which were too small to be used for anything but. At such speed she was able to arrive at her chosen meeting point and act as if she'd been waiting for hours. She did so by casually leaning on the railing on the balcony over the foyer's causeway entrance, poised to speak loudly, and coyly, when the Order person swaggered in. And swagger this character did, strutting into view as if they didn't have a care in the world. Stopping, popping one hip as if for a camera, and casually gazing about the room.

She smirked, leaned her head into her right hand, and spoke up. " **Evening. Fantastic weather we're having outside isn't it?** "

Credit where it was due, the woman didn't jump at all and calmly, coolly spun on one heel to look up at her. "Element of surprise, and you don't try to take advantage of it? Not very smart for the 'mighty sorceress' of Castle Fortuna."

She smiled, willing to swap words for now. " **I'm flattered you've heard of me. Though, such a shame, I don't seem to have heard of you. Care to rectify that?** "

The immediate reaction was a guarded, neutral expression. But then the words slowly followed. "I suppose you could call me Gloria, if you had to."

A spark went off in her head. That phrasing was one of her father's favorite ways of misrepresenting himself without actually lying. Just because the man didn't lie didn't mean he couldn't be masterfully deceitful, and he'd taught her as much both directly and indirectly. No one alive was going to catch her out with that kind of 'exact words' trickery.

She casually tapped the point of her foot on the floor, silently casting a truth spell in an area large enough to include herself and the woman below. " **I don't think that's what I asked. I asked for your name, not what I could call you.** "

"Gloria" rolled her eyes. "Well, fine. My name is… Trish."

She smiled fiendishly. " **Now was that really so hard? Honesty is the best policy, as my father would say.** "

Trish's mouth fell open in silent shock. She had clearly tried to just say Gloria again, but directness made lying almost impossible. As did it for misinterpreting orders, a lesson she'd learned the hard way. Of course, now she'd probably antagonized the woman, which didn't bode well for swaying her allegiance. But, if she were going by a false name that meant she already had ulterior motives. And people like that weren't the ones she wanted to try twisting to her ends. Another of her father's lessons, 'don't trust even the most earnest of traitor as far as you can throw them. They already turned traitor once, they could do so again for even the slightest of reasons.' So what, pawn number one was a bust, at least she could have a bit of fun with them.

She casually levitated down to the same level as the other woman, about ten meters deeper into the foyer than Trish, and smiled smugly. " **Oooh, I'm sorry, were you trying to lie to me?** " She unabashedly let out a coy giggle. " **Such a shame I happen to live up to my own hype, no? Well, a shame for you if you were sent here to eliminate me of course.** " She waggled a finger on her right hand at the woman. " **I'll give you fair warning, you'd probably make more progress bashing your head against a steel wall, and it would hurt less.** "

She was rewarded with a sneer. "The only thing steel about you has to be your spine." Trish drew a short dagger from the back of one thigh. "Witches die when stabbed, just like everything else."

She started backing away slowly, via levitation. " **Oh come now, are we really going to start insulting one another's appearance? That just seems so incredibly petty.** " She took her staff in her right hand and touched down on the floor. " **And I really must insist, the correct phrase is 'Sorceress!' 'Witch' implies ugliness, horror, and foul temperament. I like to think I'm quite pleasant, at least to those who are pleasant and civil to me.** "

Trish just gave her a deadpan stare. "You really talk too much." The dagger was pointed at her. "Now what would happen if I cut that tongue of yours out?"

She kept smiling. " **Hypothetically speaking, if by some miracle you managed to do so, it would just grow back.** " She stopped smiling. " **I suppose that means now you're going to try and kill me, no? How tedious.** "

Trish let out a loud sigh. "No, really? I figured I'd just try to talk you to death like you seem intent on doing."

Immediately, Trish dropped low and rushed. She had been expecting that, knives being useful only at extremely close range and all. She brought her left hand up, with the first two fingers extended. She wasn't summoning lighting, she was moving the floor. Two large slabs of stone flipped up abruptly right in Trish's path, far too close for the woman to react. Her gesture was rewarded by a loud smack, as Trish plowed face-first into the rearranged floor.

She laughed, loudly. " **See? Beating your head against a wall.** " The slabs fell back into place with a crash, revealing a very irate, although surprisingly untouched Trish. " **Oh dear, have I made you angry? The terror!** "

The woman did not deign to reply. Instead, Trish hauled off and threw the small dagger with a shocking amount of force. It wasn't an issue to dodge, indeed as simple as leaning slightly to her right, but the following 'bang bang' of guns made her jump a little. When she turned to track the incoming gunfire, harmlessly breaking against her arcane barriers, she found that Trish had leapt up to the balcony, a jump no normal human could have pulled off, and was dual-wielding a pair of pistols that she'd pulled from who knew where.

She commented on the action. " **Well, you have a few surprises, granted. Not that any of them are doing you much good.** "

This actually elected a smirk out of the woman. "Oh? Want to see one more?"

Trish vanished in a small flash of yellow electricity. Unprepared for this, she was unable to defend herself from the impact, presumably a heavy kick, that crashed into her lower back and sent her stumbling forward several steps. Trish promptly reappeared right back on the balcony, smiling.

She looked up, answered the smirk with a humorless glare, and teleported to the far end of the room where she smartly stood with her back to the wall. " **Try that again, I dare you.** "

Her taunt was answered, and Trish leapt from the balcony before vanishing again and dropping out of the air directly above her, heel first. She blocked that kick with her staff, and made sure to draw her barrier in closer so she didn't have to worry about point-blank gunfire. Yes, this was a poor choice of engagement for her, but it was better than standing out in the open to fling spells while allowing Trish the opportunity to teleport around like a spastic gnat. She should be strong enough to at the very least match the woman physically. That thought was immediately put to the test as Trish swung one of the pistols at her head, butt first. She brought up her left hand to defend, and caught the swinging weapon. It was harder to stop than she had anticipated, but within her capabilities. She took advantage of the tiny window immediately, bringing one leg up and kicking Trish in the stomach as hard as she could manage. It was inelegant, but it worked.

The moment Trish stood up, after being thrown into the center of the chamber, she smirked again and aimed a small burst of magic towards the woman's feet, freezing them in place. " **You just stay there for a moment.** " She raised her hands around the focus of her staff, drawing on its store of power and her own deep reserves for a big blast. " **That's long enough!** "

She released the gathered power in one brilliant, incandescent bolt of lightning that crashed square into Trish's sternum. The woman was thrown back with such force the double doors of the castle would have been obliterated, had she not thought to open them nary a heartbeat after shooting off the first spell. Trish's flying body was quickly lost in the howling blizzard outside, but that was the point of violently ejecting the slattern in the first place. Maybe she shouldn't think such things, but for goodness sake _some_ modesty was important.

She spoke to herself as she swaggered over to the open double doors. " **I'm actually rather surprised she didn't simply get vaporized by the blast. Oh well, credit where it's due I suppose.** " She cleared the storm with a hand wave and discovered that the woman's body, significantly blackened, was all the way at the far end of the causeway. " **Well, that's fortunate.** " She raised a hand. " **Best not to leave anything to chance.** "

In the air above the downed Trish she coalesced a large mass of ice and snow, sharpened to a needle's point. She dropped that mass on the body, and for good measure picked it back up and dropped it back down on Trish's head. She heard the 'squish' from the doors, so, threat permanently dealt with. There stood the possibility that she had done the Order of the Sword a favor by killing a snake amidst the sheep, but that was benefit was negligible.

She rubbed at her lower back, where she had been kicked, and let out a relived sigh. " **Ah, good, no punctures or damage. I'd hate to have to change my entire wardrobe again so soon.** " As she started to turn away from the outdoors something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. " **Hmm, what's this?** "

There was a figure cresting the terrain near the opposite end of the causeway, and wouldn't you know it, it was that blue-coated boy from town. She saw him, but of course that went both ways. He saw her, and even from here she could tell that just her sighting utterly incensed the boy.

A smirk split her lips. " **Let's see how this goes…** "

She raised her hand, turned it over, and extended one finger. She then crooked that finger and gestured the young man forward. Also, she took the witch-flame from the top of her staff and dropped it, giving it a silent set of instructions. The light would lead the boy to her warded sanctuary, after taking a very long and circuitous route around the castle. After all, if he was irredeemably hostile the least she could do was make him sweat for an audience with her. And why couldn't he do a little bit of housecleaning while at it? Those demons weren't going to kill themselves.

Castle Fortuna: Library

Persephone Killgore sat in her chambers in a comfortable armchair, now brightly lit by light of a more mundane color, and idly hummed to herself as she paged through a book on, of all things, demonic gastronomy. Apparently someone cared enough about such a topic to theorize rampantly about it. She was levitating the book, and turning the pages via magic, just so that she had her hands free when Mr. Blue-coat showed up. And she was staring to get a bit antsy about it. She couldn't have gotten him killed could she? To rank and file demons? Oh well, if he wasn't able to hold his own against the likes of Scarecrows then he…

The door of her library was kicked open, in the wrong direction, and through it stormed the young man, breathing heavily, with murder written on his face. He saw her, raised an accusatory finger, the one on his demonic right hand, and yelled an obligatory, heroic, "You!"

She flipped her book closed. " **Well hello.** " She glanced past the boy towards the broken door and spoke as calmly, and innocently as possible. " **You could have knocked. What would you have done if I were naked?** "

Judging by the way the boy's face simultaneously flushed deep, deep crimson and confusion flooded through his eyes she could tell she had rattled his cage but good. He rallied, eventually. "You, you killed Kyrie!"

She frowned lightly. " **The girl who was singing at the Opera House? Well, I'm sorry, truly. But, to be perfectly fair it was an accident. An accident that, as long as we're being fair and honest, you bear just as much responsibility for as me.** "

That comment made the young man angry, but he didn't draw either the sword or his gun, so, progress. "What the hell are you talking about?"

This was the critical point, so she had to word this carefully. That and use magic to make her voice more persuasive. " **I'll be perfectly honest. I was in that building to kill Sanctus, but I** _ **didn't**_ **. Red-coat did that. I was just sitting in the pews after he burst in, enjoying the show you two were putting on. You were the one that decided it was a good idea to topple that giant sword, for whatever reason. I only acted in the interest of self-preservation when I swatted it aside.** " She shrugged. " **I didn't even know the girl was still in the building, let alone off to my left.** "

She stopped speaking to more accurately gauge the impact of her words. As they sunk in the young man started muttering trite lines to himself, eyes going wide, swaying in place. Oh dear, he was having an emotional breakdown. She'd wanted to defuse his hatred of her, and this certainly accomplished that, but this was going a little beyond what she'd hoped for. As it progressed she actually started to feel bad. Well, she _was_ bad. Daughter of the very literal God of Evil rather carried that expectation. But she didn't like to think of herself as unduly _cruel_.

After a moment of internal debate she hesitantly stood up and meandered her way over to the young man. He had fallen to his knees. " **Do you have a name?** "

Stupid question, of course he had a name. But at present she couldn't quite think of anything else to shake him out of this little funk. And she hated that. She prided herself on eloquence for goodness sake. 'Do you have a name?' Ugh.

She received an answer, it was just too low in volume to be heard. " **What was that?** "

The young man muttered it again, just loud enough to be heard. "Nero."

Sighing internally, she spoke again. " **Well, Nero, I'm sure you didn't mean to hurt her. Accidents like this just happen sometimes. Life can be, eh, cruel like that sometimes.** "

The breakdown promptly stopped. And it only took her a moment of silent thought to realize why, she'd forgotten to turn off her 'extra persuasive' spell when she'd gone into platitudes! She was throwing this Nero through every emotional extreme that existed in the space of minutes! Now she felt horrible!

She set a hand on Nero's head and sent a surge of magic into his brain. " **Sleep.** "

The young man dropped like a sack of bricks, but she held on just tight enough to keep him from smacking his face into the floor.

She stood up and her hands flew to the sides of her face. " **Oh, why did I have to fudge this one important step? I was just supposed to talk him down from trying to kill me and send him on his merry way into the Order's labs under the castle, preferably while asking him to not break everything.** " She started pacing. " **Now what am I supposed to do? I could just Evil Presence him and carry on as normal, but when he figures out that I've directly manipulated him he's going to hate me again.** " She looked skyward accusingly. " **I am not my brother or my father! I do not enjoy risking my life just for the thrill of fighting!** " A thought occurred to her, and she slowly turned back towards the unconscious young man. " **Maybe, maybe I just go with something a little more subtle?** "

She knelt and put Nero's head in her lap while setting her hands on both of his temples. The idea she had had wasn't nearly as intrusive as mind-control, but she had to be delicate with it. Memory alteration. All she theoretically had to do was remove the memories that predisposed Nero to being hostile to her, and that was anything and everything related to Kyrie. She could at the very least assume that he had been sent to this castle for reasons beyond "kill the sorceress," so he would remember that as his motivation for coming here, not attempting to murder her. The problem was, she had no idea how many of his memories involved that girl. She could very well be wiping out half of his life without knowing it. But, it was currently her best option.

She let out a long sigh as she finished, and broke the sleep spell. " **Awaken.** "

She knew that Nero woke up, her undoing the spell confirmed that. But there was a very long moment of silence that followed regardless. And then without warning there was a panicked cry and the young man tried to jump to his feet as quickly as possible. That action, though she very much doubted Nero intended it at all, sent what she assumed to be his face crashing into the underside of her breasts. Against her will she let out a yelp at the sudden contact and shot to her own feet, dumping Nero's head onto the stone floor.

The young man alternated between stammered apologies and low groans at the blow to the head, but he seemed otherwise fine as he stood up, noticeably slower this time. "Ahhg, what, what was I doing on the floor?"

She had prepared for that question. " **You did fight through a lot of demons to get here. You were probably just tired.** "

Nero looked down and idly scratched the back of his head, like he didn't completely buy it, but he didn't seem to think it was too unreasonable. "That's, a little embarrassing." He looked back up, straight at her, before violently blushing and looking away again.

She loosed a short 'hmph.' " **You** _ **can**_ **look you know, I don't mind.** _ **Everyone**_ **else does.** "

With her 'permission,' Nero looked directly at her again, but it was painfully obvious he was fighting to keep his eyes from drifting south of her face. It was rather cute. "Well, eh, what are you doing here? I didn't think anyone lived in this castle anymore."

She waved off the matter. " **Oh, it's a temporary arrangement. Besides, the solitude is a rather nice change of pace from my real home.** " A small smirk twisted her lips. " **Fair is fair, what are** _ **you**_ **doing here?** "

Nero was starting to sweat from the effort, scratch cute, this was adorable. "I, I'm a part of the Order. They sent me up here after Dante. He…" There was a moment of hesitation, doubtlessly from the editing she'd done to his memories. "He murdered Sanctus, the head of the Order, right in front of everyone."

She feigned partial ignorance. " **Dante? Man in a red coat?** "

Nero's eyes popped. "You've seen him?"

She nodded. " **Once, but not very recently.** " It wasn't technically a lie. But she had to start steering the conversation now. " **If I may though, one murder seems a little insignificant next to this whole demonic invasion, no?** "

The young man scowled lightly. "I, guess, maybe."

She continued. " **I have no idea where Dante might have gone, but I do think I have some thoughts on who is behind the invasion. You're not going to like hearing it though.** "

Nero's scowl deepened. "Unless you're going to tell me it's the Order behind it I really don't think…" Her face must have given it away, because Nero barked immediately. "You can't be serious!"

She shrugged helplessly. " **I can't even begin to fathom why myself, I only know that they are the ones responsible.** " She gestured off into the castle. " **That giant stone slab in the yard, the one spewing demons, they built that thing. I know that for a fact. I also know for a fact that they have a lab studying demons right beneath this castle.** " She smiled. " **Don't believe me? You can always just go and see for yourself. I can even show you the way.** "

She brought her hands together and brought a large, basketball-sized orb of opalescent light into existence. With a small shove it floated over to the broken door, dutifully waiting to be followed.

She sauntered over to stand next to Nero, snaking a hand up onto his right shoulder and gesturing towards the orb. " **Just follow the light. You already did such a good job of that on your way here.** " She gave the young man a light nudge, ran a finger across the edge of his cheek, and turned away, briefly, before smoothly spinning back around. " **Oh, and, if you don't mind. Try to not break** _ **everything**_ **down there, would you? I am quite curious what they are doing down there. Be a dear and let me look around when you're done, hmm?** "

Blushing, sweating, Nero nodded awkwardly. "Y, Yes ma'am."

She stopped short, was silent for a moment, and started laughing. " **Ma'am?' I'm not even twenty five yet!** " She calmed herself, kept smiling, and spoke again. " **Please, my name is Persephone.** " She made a gentle shooing motion with both hands. " **Now go on. I'll be here when you're done.** "

The young man hesitated. "Are you, er, are you safe here?"

It was now her turn to be stunned, but she recovered quickly. " **But of course. This entire library is protected against demons. I'll be fine.** "

She then manually shooed Nero out of the library and magically shut/fixed the door behind him.

About thirty seconds passed, long enough that she could be fairly sure that the young man was well out of earshot, before she started giggling like a school-girl. " **Oh my goodness that was adorable! 'Are you safe here?' How sweet of him!** " After a long moment in which she continued to laugh she noticed a slight warmth in the sides of her face. " **What's this, am I actually blushing? Oh that is precious!** "

Eventually, she contained her glee and sat back down, wiping the occasional tear of mirth from her eyes. Maybe this would turn out better than expected after all.


	4. Demon In White

Chapter 3: Demon in White

Castle Fortuna: Library

Persephone Killgore hummed lightly to herself, paging through a demonic bestiary with half of her attention and partaking of her dinner with the other. Seared salmon, lemon glazed, with a side of steamed spinach. And a nice bottle of white wine to compliment it. Naturally, she had cooked the meal herself. Spending so much time with her aunt Sophitia had its perks. Learning how to cook primarily by osmosis was one of the lesser ones. She was by far no gourmet, unlike her aunt, but she could do a mean fish. Happy coincidence that seafood just so happened to be her favorite. Like this salmon; light, fluffy, succulent, just a hint of heat from a dash of spices. She could probably win some kind of competition with it. But of course, she had higher ambitions.

She paused, glanced outside long enough to notice the fact that it had gone dark outside, and muttered aloud. " **Hmm, Nero's been gone for a really long time. I didn't screw up the directions, did I? No, no I'm sure I didn't.** " A scowl twisted her lovely face. " **What in blazes could be taking him so long?** "

Almost as if fate heard her, an explosion shook the castle. Books toppled from the shelves, dust drifted from the ceiling, and her wine tottered off the side of the table before smashing to the floor. Naturally, the latter irritated her the most. But she could at least think it safe to assume that Nero had done what she had figured he would do. Namely kill things and cause a ruckus. Anyone working down in those labs would be running for the hills with their tails tucked firmly between their legs. Although who could blame a person for such a reaction? A demonic half-breed raging through your workplace, killing your experiments, and likely your co-workers? Would be terrifying.

A dark grin crossed her face. " **I almost wish I could have watched the show.** " She glanced around at the disheveled library and her grin was replaced by a mild pout. " **I wonder, should I tidy up before he gets back? I should have more than enough time.** " An idle thought occurred to her, and it drew a small giggle from her. " **I could always wait, act all indignant and get Nero to help me. If he was concerned about my safety then he probably would on principle.** "

The infinitesimal speck that was her so called 'angel on the shoulder' whispered to the back of her mind that such an action was a bit needlessly exploitative. And, for once, she actually listened to it. She really shouldn't push it. After all, she hadn't enslaved Nero. And a bit of intuition told her that it would take a lot more than a tiny flash of Evil Presence to subdue him. Not something she would try unless she had no other choice. He could likely kill her if he tried, maybe, so she should do her best to avoid giving him a reason to.

With a bored yawn she stood up, stretching her arms up over her head. " **I'd better start. I don't like leaving a mess anyways, and I'd like to explore these labs unmolested as soon as Nero leaves on, well, whatever righteously motivated roaring rampage he doubtlessly intends to go on now.** " She chuckled lightly. " **Heroic types are so predictable.** "

She took two steps towards one of the fallen books, one she had chosen at random, and scooped it off the floor with her left hand. It was a grey, almost drab grimoire titled, _Dante Sparda, Slayer of Mundus_. She stuck it back on the shelf with nary a second thought. As she did with the next book, and the next book…

Twenty Minutes later:

Persephone let out a small huff of satisfaction as she looked upon her freshly restored, temporary domain. The books were all put back, probably not in exactly the same place but that was the fault of whoever stocked the library in the first place with no perceivable organization whatsoever. She'd even patched the cracks in the ceiling and blown away the dust with a tiny tornado. People always thought magic had to be about big explosions, or transformations, or enchantment. No one ever appreciated the mundane utility of the arcane. Then again, few likely had access to it from practically birth.

Her appraising gaze swept across one tiny imperfection in her work, a wafer thin book hiding in the shadow of the plush chair, and she made for it immediately. " **Oh of all the insignificant little…** " She leaned forward to snatch up the last straggler, and just as she did so she heard the door to the rest of the castle open. She glanced up, expecting and rewarded for her expectations with the face of Nero, and a small, civil smile crossed her face. " **Hello again, have fun?** "

The young knight met her gaze for a full five seconds, before gravity dragged his gaze down. Nero instantly turned red and redirected his eyes towards the ceiling as if it were somehow suddenly the most interesting thing in the whole universe. It actually took her a few seconds to figure out why, until she recalled that she was leaning down towards the door and showing off just about everything she had to display. Her civil smile promptly morphed into a bemused grin.

She stood back up and slowly sauntered towards the young man. " **You seem to have a habit of catching me in what could be compromising situations. Next thing we know you'll just happen to barge in while I'm taking a bath, or look up when I'm walking down a flight of stairs.** " She put on her most salacious, teasing smile. " **A girl might start to think you were a bit of a pervert, just trying your luck to see if you can get a peek up my dress.** " She cooed gently. " **If you really want to know that much, I might tell you if you ask.** "

Nero was now sweating, his pupils were the size of needlepoints, and his non-demonic arm was dragging one half of his coat in front of his lower half. He very clearly _did_ want to ask, but that same bit of, what was she going to call it, gallantry, chivalry, decency that kept him from staring at her chest like a lecher prevented him from giving in to the temptation she was offering. In complete jest, of course. She wasn't some tramp who hopped into bed with the most convenient partner she could sink her nails into. She had standards for herself after all. And she wasn't going to surrender her maidenhood to _anyone_ without a great deal of wooing and courting on their part. Some lucky man out there was going to work their behind off to impress her. Nero was cute though, and cute was a nice plus.

She reached out one finger on her left hand and set it on Nero's chest, pausing for a fraction of a heartbeat to note that the young knight had a very firm chest, before giving him a gentle shove. " **Relax. You need to learn how to recognize when someone's teasing you.** "

The young knight let out a breath as full of relief as a drowning man breaching the surface. "Eh, yes, whatever you say ma… er, Persephone."

She smiled, a half-way genuine one at that. " **I'm flattered that you remembered.** " She paused and glanced to her chair, considering sitting down but eventually deciding against it. " **So, I know that general gist of the situation, but what did you find down there?** " A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. " **At least enough to prove that I wasn't lying to you, I hope.** "

A shadow of anger descended upon Nero's face. "You were right, for what it's worth. They're experimenting with demons; trapping spirits in suits of the Order's armor, inventing new demons from scratch…" The young man grit his teeth. "… Turning themselves into demons."

The only thing her face betrayed was a single twitched eye-brow. " **I seem to recall that the Order** _ **worships**_ **a demon, no? The demon-knight Sparda? Why exactly is this a bad thing?** " She shrugged, airing a genuine thought. " **They probably see it as some kind of honor.** "

Nero barked at her, adding a finger point for emphasis. "Well it's NOT! And I'm going to the Order's headquarters to get some answers!"

The vehemence in the knight's voice caused her to take one involuntary step backwards, subconsciously raising one arm in an impotent warding gesture, reminding her quite succinctly that she was playing with fire right now.

Her face, not to mention everything else, must have betrayed something. Because Nero's expression went from rage to veiled guilt. "I, sorry. I shouldn't have yelled."

She lowered her arm, regaining her composure with a light toss of her hair. " **It's nothing, you have every right to be, passionate, about objecting.** " She attempted to make light of the situation by smiling. " **You didn't strike me as a particularly devout knight of the Order in the first place, correct?** "

One hand rose to scratch the back of Nero's head. "Not really. I guess, I guess I just figure I owe it to Credo, and…" A shadow of confusion fell across the young man's features. "… I, owe it to Credo's family for taking me in."

An icy ball of dread curled up inside her ribcage, and she made doubly sure that she maintained perfect composure. " **Something wrong?** " That was a stupid question, she knew full well what was wrong. And it was a BIG wrong. That girl hadn't just been Nero's girlfriend, she'd been someone he'd grown up with. Nero's memory was now full of foggy holes just waiting to be filled in by the right stimuli.

The knight shook his head. "No I, I just feel like I'm forgetting something important."

Her pulse quickened and her temperature climbed as she abruptly, and tragically ungracefully, changed the subject. " **Yes, well, I'm sure it can't be that important. So, the lab, you didn't blow up everything, right?** " She leaned forward, deliberately this time. Perfectly happy to leverage her cleavage if it drew Nero's mind away from his murky memory. " **You did that for little old me, right?** "

Naturally, her small gambit worked. Nero hastily looked away while answering. "Uh, yeah, yeah most of it's still there. There was just one guy down there anyway."

She smiled, internally much more than externally, pleased that at least something was going right. " **Well, that is a good spot of news. Thank you, sincerely.** "

The young knight paused, and then looked back to her with a shadow of suspicion clouding his face. "Wait, why are you so interested in what's down there?"

She had prepared for that question, and thusly could answer it as casually as could be while feigning study of her fingernails. " **I confess a heavily academic interest. That, and, well, obviously no one wants demons running about unchecked, correct?** " She looked up from her nails, exactly as she had rehearsed. " **Naturally, anything I puzzle out about the Order's methods, plans, and progress only helps.** " A smirk tugged at her lips. " **I figure I'm obviously the best one present for that task. You don't strike me as the 'research' type.** "

For the first time since she'd modified his memory, Nero had a rather miffed look to his face. "I can't tell whether that was a backhanded insult or not."

She let out a small sniff, raised both hands, and gave the young man a playful shove, probably with a smidge more force than necessary. " **Nero, take the teasing with a grain of salt, you grump.** "

The young man was silent for a few seconds, put one hand to his chest where she'd shoved him, and looked back at her with a curious expression. "You're, stronger than you look."

She smirked, put her hands on her hips, and tilted her chin up just a little bit. " **A compliment? Well, a good start. But ladies like myself generally tend to appreciate praise directed towards, other aspects.** " She waited for about five seconds, having fun with the moment, before continuing in a fake whisper. " **That's your cue to try again, sourpuss.** "

Nero just gave her a blank, unamused glare before turning on his heel towards the door. "I think that's my cue to leave."

She moved to follow immediately, drawing her staff along almost subconsciously. " **Oh come now, that's no way for a knight to act towards a lady! You should be showering me with praise on anything you can think of.** "

She didn't mean that at all. Yes, the chivalrous 'knight in shining armor' was the only version of 'knight' she knew of, but she didn't expect that from Nero at all. He was lacking the glittering plate armor for one. She didn't even expect him to compliment her; especially since he seemed to put quite a bit of effort into _not_ looking at her, which she appreciated to a degree. She'd already screwed up by punching a ton of holes in Nero's memory, it cost her nothing in the long run if she acted openly towards the young man. Indeed, it only helped her if/when Nero recovered his memory she wouldn't just be "witch that killed my girlfriend" in his head. Granted, that justification only just now occurred to her.

She kept pace roughly half a step behind Nero as he navigated that castle back towards the foyer, chattering idly the whole while about whatever occurred to her. Her clothes, comments on his outfit, intermittent teasing in which she primarily called him some variation of 'grump,' occasional questions about him that went unanswered… The whole nine yards really. He hadn't bothered to shut her down, so, credit for being a good listener? Sure, not the most stimulating conservationist, but it was amusing how he flinched whenever she touched him in the most innocent of places. Not that her hands strayed anywhere else, she had personal boundaries too.

Entering the foyer at length, she let out a long, melodramatic sigh. " **Ooooh, you realize it's been nearly ten minutes and you haven't said a word? Ignoring a lady is just rude if you don't mind me saying.** "

Whatever reserve of patience that had sustained Nero this long abruptly dried up, as he started to snap at her. "Look, 'lady,' I didn't come out here to-" His gaze jerked up and behind her. "Look out!"

Instead of just doing so she felt compelled to turn and identify what was so immediately dangerous. Firstly, she saw the shadowy demon floating in the air above and in front of her, a Mephisto. Secondly, and more importantly, she saw the point of its lance-finger rocketing towards her. She mentally braced herself, knowing that she couldn't move or teleport in time, but something roughly grabbed her shoulder and just as roughly threw her aside. Still, she heard a slick impact as her back hit the side of the stairs and for a scant moment her head couldn't tell if she'd been stabbed or not. After a short moment she recovered enough poise to actually look, and identified a much different scene. Nero, of course, had been the one to shift her. But the young knight had not gotten off scot free. That slick sound she'd heard, Nero taking that impaling finger straight through the heart. The young man was down on one knee right now, coughing up blood.

She hesitated for about two seconds as she viewed this, before promptly hurling a thunderbolt and atomizing the demon. One small wrinkle that she hadn't considered, the finger-lance. In the split second timeframe it took for the demon to die, the charge traveled down the extended finger and into Nero. The young man cried out in agony, convulsing uncontrollably for five full seconds before her spell dissipated. That was the thing with thrown spells, once she let go it was beyond her control. A fact that she was regretting right now.

Nero slumped to the floor, sucking in ragged, pained gasps. He was still bleeding, and now his body was smoking. And, he'd just fundamentally jumped in front of a blow meant for her. And then she'd electrocuted him.

She knelt and turned Nero over, to look at the wound. " **Ok, ah, let's…** " She let out a long hiss of sympathy. " **Ok, that looks, really, really bad…** "

The puncture wound would have been bad enough, what with the demon's finger-lance being about as big around as, well, a finger. And her initial guess had been correct, straight through the heart. Nero wasn't dead, at least not yet. She would attribute that to him being half-demon, or something. The thunderbolt had charred more than half of Nero's chest and, she would assume, his back if she took the time to look.

She hesitated. " **Uhm, ah, ok first aid, uh…** " Her father had taught her medical skills, but, she would be the first to admit that she had paid only cursory attention on anything outside of setting bones. Her flesh regenerated within seconds, she was immune to disease and poison, why did she need to know any of that? She started thinking out loud. " **Stop the bleeding? He is still bleeding.** " Her hands flew up. " **All this magic and, why do I know no healing spells? Pft, same reason I didn't pay attention when daddy was teaching me first-aid.** "

Another question was why she was bothering. She had been planning to use Nero as her pawn, she had determined that she had messed up that pawn-ship, she had easily deduced that he was going to be a threat to her if he ever got his full memory back.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she came to an intermediate solution and put a hand to Nero's forehead. " **Sleep.** " After a few more seconds, and a vague recollection from her father's lessons, she placed a finger to the chest wound and ignited it to cauterize the wound. She then let out a long, frustrated sigh. " **I really should cut my losses. I really should. This, ugh, why?** "

She should just kill him and void the potential problem. But Nero had just saved, well, not her life, but a significant amount of pain. She was a wimp about pain. The product of a cushy, spoiled upbringing. Go figure, of all the divine and semi-divine members of her family and she was the only baby. It felt, wrong, to kill him now.

She sighed again, stood, and picked Nero up via levitation. She spoke to the unconscious knight as she started walking back to the library. " **Don't think you can go getting used to this. I'm the daughter of the God of Evil, this is a one-time thing. You, helped me, I'm going to help you.** " Her gaze idly drifted to the hand magically holding Nero up, and a whine tore from her throat. " **Aww, I got blood on my gloves!** "

Castle Fortuna: Order Labs

Persephone Killgore stood at the cavernous entrance of the labs, heels resting solidly on the cold, iron floor. Poetically, she would liken this particular area to a giant throat, all that was missing was the uvula. Not that there was any structural need for such a thing. A small chuckle escaped her as a fictitious, not to mention nonsensical, 'but if we put this here it'll look cool,' 'idiot, that's a stupid idea' dialogue played through her head. She would assume that the facility smelled clean, clinical like a hospital room. "Assume," because her choice of escort for this exploration was doing a fantastic job of stinking up a storm.

She sent a wan look over her shoulder, before waving the minions forward. As per their nature they surged forward around her in one solid mass of gibbering, slavering maniacs. She had the usual reservations with regards to the little fools, but she was going into hostile territory. And she currently had no viable support other than them. Poor qualities aside, they would happily throw themselves in front of anything that was out to harm her. But, they would do so out of compulsion, not because they wanted to…

She scowled. " **Shut up, inner romantic. This is not the time.** "

It had been about thirty minutes since she'd dropped Nero off back in her library, wrapped his chest wound up, and walked away. If she weren't actively thinking about something else, her treasonous brain would drift towards replaying that moment where Nero heroically, hence the 'treasonous' thought, intercepted a blow meant for her. And he chose to do that, despite only knowing her for less than a day. Despite her apparently annoying him for ten minutes straight with idle chatter.

She paused, forced to skirt around a floor grate that would eat her heels. " **I am an Evil Overlady. That means, I am not susceptible to, to, gallantry!** "

She was lying, of course. She'd grown up with the same stories every other little girl, or at least most little girls, she had to remember the sorry case of Bjorn's blushing, pelvically challenged, first wife Samus, did. Knight and princesses, the latter of which was technically her title, towers and dragons. Like it or not, that sort of thing _did_ push her buttons. A rather shameful character trait for the daughter of the literal God of Evil. She'd figured she'd end up with some kind of lite version of her father; tall, dark, highly masculine, gentlemanly, personal mass murderer of millions. That was definitely not Nero. He was pale, fairly effeminate, an inch or two shorter than her, and he'd probably never killed another human being unless absolutely necessary, if at all, and he could be incredibly rude. There couldn't be a man further from her father.

Her foot kicked against something, and she logically stopped to avoid walking into whatever it was. It was a door, which was handy. Given her mood, she blew the door off of its hinges, and what she saw made her mood improve by a very wide margin. What Nero had mentioned in anger, suits of armor being possessed by demonic spirits, she saw rows and rows of them. Each seemingly suspended in empty glass tanks while ephemeral vapor that swirled and eddied around the stunningly white, honestly angelic looking metal.

She commented out loud, primarily to herself. " **I like the look of this. A ready-made army, all set for the taking.** " She walked up to and set a hand on one of the tanks. " **Now, how do I go about making you mine?** "

A 'clank, clank' off to her rear was the apparent response. She turned at the waist, just to look, and found that one of the armors, one of the "living" ones, was standing there, watching her. Standing up, she could see that it looked just as lovely as it did in the tube. Angelic, clearly the entire intent, with only the barest hint of demonic taint in the tiny areas of 'flesh' that she could see at the shoulders and the top of the greaves. Occasionally, there would be a small flare of cyan light from the horned helmet's eye slits. It wasn't attacking yet, so, what was she to make of that? It certainly stood like it was poised to.

She turned fully to face the demon/armor. " **Can you speak?** " After a long moment, during which her only response was a sideways tilt of the helmet, she sighed and tossed her hair. " **No, I suppose not.** " She started walking slowly, deliberately, to her right in a large circle around the demon. " **I figure you just don't know what to make of me, yes? I look human enough, minus some surreal, and exotic, features. But those same features say 'demon' to you, don't they?** " She reached a full ninety-degrees around the demon/armor and gestured to it. " **Get it.** "

At her command the throng of minions, mostly Browns, barreled to the attack, screaming and cackling like always. That rush ended quite badly. The demon knight's spear flashed like a thunderbolt, stabbing with rapid thrusts and sweeps, flinging minions about and splattering them into unrecoverable paste. When outflanked, its strategy changed. Its shield became wings, and the demon armor made several diving lunges to shred the few survivors of the initial onslaught.

Only slightly nonplussed that her escort had been eradicated, she slowly clapped as the demon knight turned back towards her, again seemingly passive. " **Bravo, sincerely. I haven't seen a slaughter like that in quite a while. Not since my father was ambushed by that mob of street thugs in Heaven's Peak.** " She paused, eyes drifting up and to her left. " **Well, I say ambushed, but he probably knew they were there to begin with. Heard them, smelled them more likely. Well, doesn't matter.** " She refocused, noting that the demon was still just looking at her. " **Still nothing? I doubt you'd stay so passive if I start poking around with your, shall I say brothers?** " She looked languidly towards the rows of tanks, and then back towards the lone demon. " **Considering that, I'm afraid I do have to destroy you. Can't have you stabbing me in the back now.** "

Her right arm extended, fingers miming a gun, before launching a lightning bolt. She assumed that, like all the other demons, one would be enough. She was quickly proven wrong. The demon ducked, raising its shield, and her bolt bounced right off into the ceiling. It immediately started stalking towards her, lance ready, murder written in the glowing light from its helmet.

She was stunned, motionless for three seconds. " **Oh shoot.** " She recovered just in time to notice the demon knight thrust its weapon forward, and to hop aside with a yelp. " **No no no no no no, I'm allergic to pain!** "

She was completely unprepared for this. No text she had read on the demons mentioned anything about resistance to magic, and certainly not immunity. So she was forced to assume this was something that The Order had added with human magic. They couldn't have known about her when they started this process, but nonetheless it was like sticking up a giant middle finger towards her and laughing. She threw a bolt into the ground, to try and surprise the demon, but it hopped aside and placed its shield squarely between it and the erupting lightning. She lobbed one up, and again, her shot was wasted, and more, deflected straight towards her.

She teleported away, granting herself a momentary reprieve. " **This, this was not the plan.** "

She heard a flaring noise, turned, and found that the demon had taken flight again, taking advantage of her momentarily turned back. There was no shield, so she could theoretically shoot the bloody thing, but that would mean getting skewered. And, obviously, she wasn't going to let that happen if she had any say in the matter. She put her hands low and formed a small, connected o. She caught the lance, but by no means did that mean she got off easy. It slid through her grip, nearly reaching her stomach, but it did stop. The hard part came when the demon knight lifted the lance and slammed her down to the ground, knocking the wind out of her. A brief thought of 'must be nice to be father' flitted through her head, on account of the 'not needing to breath' bit.

Time seemed to slow down. She watched the demon lift its lance, flip its grip for optimal 'downward stabby action,' keeping its accursed shield between it and her at all times. She raised a hand and fired off another spell, the only thing she could do. She didn't know why she defaulted to Evil Presence, but in that split-second moment she quickly became very glad that she did. The pale blue light completely ignored the shield, arcing around it like flowing water, and when the descending lance was barely a millimeter from her body, it stopped.

She paused, momentarily unsure of what had happened. Experimentally, she moved to escape from under the unmoving lance. The knight let her, simply following her with the, now glowing purple, tri-slit helmet. It did nothing else as she stood, faced it, and backed away. It still did nothing when she mimicked the gesture she had initially used to shoot lightning at it, not even a twitch.

Still wary, she gave the demon a simple command. " **Stand at attention.** "

Her order was immediately obeyed. The demon knight snapped to attention; lance erect, shield tight to its chest, heels locked together. Thusly encouraged she stepped forward, hesitantly reaching out a hand to touch the demon. It allowed it, again with nary a twinge, and her hand touched its cool, ivory chest-plate. A spontaneous spark of whimsy hit her, and seeing as how this demon knight seemed to be completely under her command…

She backed up slowly, biting her lower lip in amusement. " **Now, dance!** "

Unfortunately, the demon didn't do as she commanded. Instead, it stood there, head twitching, apparently in pain. She recognized this of course, the demon didn't know what dancing was, so how could it do something foreign to its mind? Simple fix really…

She spoke up. " **Ok, just stop for a moment.** " The index finger of her right hand started tapping her lower lip thoughtfully. " **Now, what should I make you…** " The idea occurred to her. " **Oh, of course!** " She returned her attention to the demonic servant. " **Just do what I do, when I do it. I'll tell you when to stop.** "

She started working her hips, imitating a dance she'd once seen her mother do for her father when they thought she wasn't watching. She knew, empirically, that it was very, very dirty. Which was why she was just about dying on the inside watching a demonic suit of armor go through the motions. She didn't have an audience, so what did it matter? Once she was done playing though, all of those other promising soldiers would be joining her cause very soon. Things were finally looking up.


	5. Demon Design Extraordinaire

Chapter 4: Demon Design Extraordinaire

Castle Fortuna:

Persephone Killgore was beside herself with delight as she walked back towards her library. It had only taken her, roughly, thirty minutes or so to puzzle out how to send an infectious Evil Presence through the lot of the demon knights. She had even figured out how to summon them to her in an emergency. But that was nothing to her compared to getting the lot of them to dance for her once she'd taken command of all fifty or so that were in the lab. Left right, forward back, swinging hips… She started dancing to her own internal soundtrack as she walked. How fortunate for her that she was the only one in the castle that was conscious…

A voice broke into her mind. "… What in hell…"

She froze, mid pose, and snapped open her eyes. Nero was standing right there, outside of her library, not unconscious, with no bleeding hole in his chest. As surprised as she was by that, and the fact that Nero had woken up on his own, she was more concerned with the fact that Nero had woken up just when she had let herself lapse into whimsy. This time, her self-control did not stop her from both blushing and stammering.

She straightened up. " **N, Nero? When, when did you, how are you…** "

The young man raised his demonic arm, seemingly comfortable enough showing it as she'd already seen it. "I think we both know why. I heard your heels on the floor and figured I'd better be on my way. Didn't want to leave without saying thanks though. Even if it didn't really help, you meant well."

Her face heated up. He'd seen her dancing, undesired as it had been, and he wasn't even going to comment on it? The sheer nerve…

She coughed lightly. " **Well, you did take that blow for me. I simply had to, well, not return the favor, but, you know what I mean. Thank you, for that.** "

Nero accepted the thanks with a nod and an awkward smile, before edging by her in the hallway and making for the distant foyer and castle gate. She kept her back as ridged and straight as possible, while simultaneously watching the young man out of the corner of her eye. A part of her was faintly fascinated about how rapidly Nero healed from wounds, a trait the majority of her blood-relatives shared. But the rest was, bluntly, fuming over Nero simply waking up at a moment inopportune for her.

She heard a scuff, turned, and found that Nero had stopped. "Ah, nice moves, by the way. Yeah." The young man threw her an awkward wave. "I'll be going now."

She digested this for a few seconds, before a smug, self-assured grin split her face long after Nero had disappeared. " **He likes my dancing. Well, I guess someone has good taste after all. I'm me, of course.** "

And she resumed walking, an arrogant sway to her hips as she entered her library and eased the door shut, firmly, behind her. Promptly, she drew the plush chair over to her with a simple spell and sat down, steeping her fingers and grinning. Yes, technically it was a tiny, insignificant detail, but it stoked her ego a bit. And what woman didn't like receiving a compliment? Now if only the knight could make more of them without sounding so bloody forced. How had that Kyrie ever started to like him? He certainly wasn't the romantic type, so no flowers, poems, or moonlit walks on the beach. The knight could move, at least in a fight. But could he dance? Doubtful, those were two different skillsets. So, what? He was rather gallant and girlishly handsome. Really? That was all he had going for him? By the stars, how did he survive?

She shook her head, smiling whimsically. " **It really doesn't matter. He's gone, I should be focusing on something more productive…** " She clapped her hands, summoning one of her new demon knights into the center of her library. " **… Something like you.** "

And she sat there for quite a long while, both admiring and studying the design of her new servant. Silently, she again congratulated herself on a wonderful find, certain that these things would be infinitely more useful to her than the vile minions. But, a part of her asked, why just settle for what she could hijack? Why not, make it better? Tinker around a little? It'd be fun at the very least, and she didn't really have a pressing timetable now that her initial plan had gone awry. She could afford to mess around.

She stood, languidly sauntering over to the rigid demonic soldier. " **Now just what can I do to you?** " She giggled aloud. " **Goodness, the way I said that. One might think that was flirting, perish the thought!** " She cocked her head to the side, one finger on her lower lip, and hummed thoughtfully. " **Really though, I've tapped the magic the Order used to make you, so that should give me free reign to do whatever I like.** " On an impulsive whim she reached out and rapidly tapped the chest plate twice, turning the bluish-white into a flush pink. " **Like that, for instance.** " She looked on for a few seconds, comparing, and snapped her fingers. Undoing the change. " **No, that's not the color I would choose for a soldier. Sticks out too much, really gaudy in fact. Pink like that only belongs on fairytale ball gowns and other frilly things.** " She rolled her eyes. " **Not that there is anything wrong with frilly. I** _ **like**_ **frilly, I just don't think it works for an ardent, stalwart enforcer of my will.** " A thought occurred to her, one she voiced. " **Then again, that's assuming I keep you looking like a** _ **male**_ **enforcer of my will.** " She thought about it some more. " **That would be pretty easy to work, I think. After all your 'flesh…"** She prodded the black, glowing-veined 'flesh' visible though the demon/holy armor. " **… Isn't really flesh at all, it just looks, and, eh, kind of feels like flesh. I could just, oh, widen the hips, narrow the waist…** " She laughed. " **… Give it breasts, or at least a 'molded breastplate.' Oh, I'm horrible.** " Giggling, she leaned forward and pet the unmoving demon knight on the side of its helmet. " **If you had the slightest shred of will you'd probably be mortified by all of this. How nice for me that you don't.** " She thought about it for a second, and grinned. " **Why the blazes not? Let's do it.** "

She took three steps back so she could see the whole picture, and went to work. Her hands waved through the air, tugging and warping the strands of magic that constructed the demonic knight's very form, very much like a conductor at an orchestra, or opera. Normally, say with an average person, this kind of thing would be very, very difficult. But, as her demon knight was essentially made of raw magic, this was easy.

She started from the ground up, trimming the knight's boots, shifting the decorative trim, giving the boots a stiletto heel, because screw practicality it was a flying demon knight, and rounding off the rather silly looking toe-formation on the end, turning the boots into something that she herself might wear. If she decided to wear white, and armor. No real reason she didn't. She was certainly strong enough to. Granted, likely not arcanium like her father, brother, and nephew. She could, but by the stars was it heavy. Durium plate was within her reach though. She just, didn't feel sexy and glamorous in practical armor. And anything her father made would be the very essence of practical, no bikini-mail or such would EVER come from his anvil. Not that she would wear that either, it'd chafe something horrible.

Back to her project. She changed very little working up the legs, save slimming them down a smidge, more so at the knee than at the thigh. At the waist and hips her artistic whimsy went a little more wild. Naturally, as she was essentially making a lady-demon knight, she widened the hips and gave it a rounder butt, because why not? But she also lengthened the tassets, front and back, giving her partially metamorphosed demon what could accurately be called a plate-skirt, which ended just below the knee.

She stopped, gave her creation a quick look-over, and laughed riotously. " **Oh you look so horrible right now! Male from the waist up, lady from the waist down! And not even so much as a twitch the whole time. Goodness I really won the grand prize with you.** "

She continued, narrowing the waist of her project considerably, to roughly a point at which it was maybe a few centimeters or so wider than her own waist. She was making this thing pretty, but she obviously wasn't going to make it better-looking than herself. She changed very little about the torso, primarily slimming the arms and significantly narrowing the shoulders. This marked the singular time her knight moved, but only to adjust its grip on both lance and shield when the weaponry clicked against its body/armor. She ignored the chest area, for the time being, and skipped to the helmet.

For a moment she thought about it, primarily leery of the horns on the helmet. At length, she decided to change the design completely. She had the face-plate suck back, flush with the 'flesh' beneath to give it more of a 'mask' aesthetic, and gave it a set of plump 'lips,' or at least it would look that way to someone else. She significantly trimmed the top of the helmet, also making it flush with the top of her demon's head, and changed the decorative horns into decorative wings that flared in the opposite direction from the formerly forward arcing horns.

Now, the purely cosmetic choice. Was she going to give the thing tits or not? It, and she was going to continue to use 'it' despite the knight now looking decidedly feminine, was an artistic masterpiece as it was, in her incredibly un-humble opinion. She was undecided if tits would make it better, or worse.

Chuckling a little, she planted her hands on her hips and thrust her own magnificent chest towards her project. " **What do you think? Do you want a pair of these?** " Of course, she didn't get an answer. The thing didn't even have a mouth, despite the mask making it look like it did. " **Well, I** _ **have**_ **already given you high-heels and a very buttxom butt. I suppose it would look a little odd if I didn't just go all the way.** "

Smirking a little at the ridiculousness of it, she snapped her fingers and affected the change. The flat chest plate swelled outwards on her whim, stopping a few steps past Z-cup, but still short of her own chest by a long shot. Not even a hint of jiggle either, considering that it was a molded chest plate. Most people would probably think that was excessive, but she lived with that kind of chest every day. It was normal for her.

She clapped her hands sarcastically. " **Oh just look at you, you look like something from one of my brother's wet dreams.** " She laughed again. " **Goodness, we could even be sisters! Ha!** "

She backed up and sat down, still laughing quietly over the hilariously sexualized thing she had created. Only then though, did another thought occur to her.

She vocalized the idea. " **You know, now that I think about it, why should I keep you using a lance? It just, works, for every other one of you. But, now that you look like a lady. I don't know, maybe it just seems a little too phallic?** " She tapped her chin thoughtfully. " **Maybe, a bow? No, I live in a modernized household. A gun? A rifle maybe?** " Pieces started to fall together in her head. " **You know what that's actually a really good idea! I have the normal demon knights getting up in everything's face, keeping them busy. And you, you hang back, somewhere high, and shoot whatever's annoying me in the face! Something gets close to you, you just fly away and set up somewhere else.** " She clapped as she had another bright idea. " **Ooh, you could even use that shield of yours to steady the rifle when you're shooting! I. Am. Brilliant!** "

As she re-armed her creation in accordance with her bright idea, a long, elegant rifle that matched the angelic theme, she realized that she had one small snag to this brilliant plan. Several actually. One, at present if she wanted more "sniper" demons she'd need to personally sculpt every single one of them by modifying her already existing "lance" demons. Two, at present that would leave her with an utterly abysmal rate of production for both varieties. The factory, or more accurately laboratory, in the depths of Fortuna Castle was being really slow about it. She needed something faster.

The idea occurred to her almost immediately. " **The Hell Gate right in the middle of the castle! I draw out as many demonic spirits as I need, emphasis on 'spirits,' and I have a limitless demonic army at my beck and call no matter where I go!** " She looked back over at her demon sniper. " **This is SO much better than what I'd had in mind when I came here!** " She shot up and beckoned to her knightess as she headed for the door. " **Come along now, we've got thousands of your brothers and sisters to make!** "

Castle Fortuna: Courtyard

Persephone Killgore marched into the large, open expanse of snow that counted as the inner courtyard, flanked on all four sides by her demon knights. Her single, presently, sniper stood right next to her, completely blasé about the transformation she had wrought. She'd delighted, over the fairly lengthy walk between her library and the courtyard, at noticing that her sniper even walked with a feminine gait now. A militarily precise gait, but there was some hip-action going on regardless. She figured the thing didn't have much of a choice in the matter, physiology considered.

Ahead, bringing her attention to her present task, she was mildly perturbed by the howling blizzard filling the courtyard. She should have been able to see the Hell Gate from where she was standing, but there was nothing but swirling snow. She noted though, that the storm seemed a bit too dark given the time of day. It was the afternoon, yes, but the sun shouldn't have gone down just yet. And there was an utterly atrocious stench in the air.

Her danger-sense, intuition, whichever, tingling she looked at her sniper and pointed up. " **You, park yourself on the roof up there, overlooking the courtyard.** " She watched, pleased that her changed demon knight still did as it was told completely without question, before turning her attention to her four other knights. " **You lot stay nice and tight now, I don't want any nasty surprises getting by you and so much as scratching me, yes? Good.** "

She advanced slowly, surrounded by what was essentially a mobile, Spartan phalanx formation. But, once she was only a quarter of the way to the Hell Gate something appeared in the midst of the swirling snow, or rather, two somethings. What appeared to be two blue, glowing, levitating women seemingly materialized out of thin air. They did not speak, per se, but they did laugh in a flirting sort of way and beckon to her in what roughly amounted to a seductive manner. It was a blatant, horrible lure. And she hurled a thunderbolt at the pair out of a feeling of being insulted. There was a scream, a low, rumbling one, and the blizzard immediately dissipated. What was revealed in the dim light of evening could best be described as a giant frog, or a toad, with a very, very large mouth.

That mouth opened, issuing a voice that sounded just as dumb as the body speaking it. "How, how did you know?"

She answered in a highly patronizing tone. " **One, I know what an angler fish is, and that is exactly how they catch prey. Two, your lures were horrible. No curves at all!** " She struck a mild pose. " **Why go half-way? You should have made them both look like me.** " She dropped the pose, and picked up a smarmy grin. " **That said, you're not going to live long enough to correct your ways, so I wouldn't bother now.** "

Clearly not used to backtalk, or talk of any kind, the toad-demon grumbled for a moment. "Erhm, ahh, I'm going to eat you!"

She tossed her hair nonchalantly. " **I seriously doubt that.** " She glanced at each of her four guards in turn. " **Well?** " She gestured flippantly towards the large demon. " **Kill it.** "

At her command her knights charged forward, taking to the air immediately to surround the demon. She teleported back, almost all the way to the door, to watch, and provide a little support if need be. From a few seconds of watching though, she doubted she'd need to do much of anything. The giant toad seemed barely capable of fighting something on the ground, let alone something that could fly. Its rancid breath summoned great spires of ice, which traveled only a short distance along the ground. Her flying knights were completely outflanking it. Dive, stab, fly away, and repeat. It was almost sad.

The demon toad's long legs tensed up, and hurled the beast into the sky. It would have been completely unremarkable, if the spot where it was going to land wasn't also the exact spot she was standing on. She would have teleported away, but before she could she found that she had been swept out of the way by her knightess and deposited long out of range of a subsequent leap.

She watched her work of art fly back up to the courtyard rooftops, aware of the fact that she'd just thought of it as a 'she' despite her earlier decision. " **Well would you look at that, not even an order. Practically automatic, just like the minions. Keep it up and I might start to get attached to you.** "

Her knightess did not answer, there she went using that term again, and instead pulled off a shot from the exact pose she had envisioned; crouched, rifle braced on the shield that doubled as wings. She didn't see where it hit, but from the roar she could only imagine that it had hurt. Turning back to the toad that was getting turned into a big pincushion, she realized what exactly the shot had done. One of the lures, the "women," had been severed very nearly perfectly. It dropped to the ground, squirmed about rather alarmingly like a real person in agony, and faded to grey as it went still.

She commented, more concerned about the sight than the profusely bleeding demon toad. " **You don't think that those lures actually have a brain in their fake heads, could they? Ugh, if so, demonic anatomy may be even more twisted than I have come to think already.** " She gazed at her knights as they descended in unison, finally murdering the reeking sack of demonic pus, and her knightess sniper. " **Such a good thing that you were made by people. Nothing freaky for me to worry about. No superfluous limbs, like, ugh, tentacles.** "

The demon's death cleared the storm, revealing the now darkened sky with a full moon and all its myriad stars. Against the backdrop the Hell Gate stood tall, to all the world looking like a simple stone monolith, or, to her, like a giant stone playing card set on one end, minus the suit and numbers/face. There was a small pedestal to one side, where one might leave an offering, or work some great magic if one had the power. She was of the latter persuasion.

She waved all of her knights, including her knightess, back to her as she approached. " **Come on now, the Gate has to know what it'll be making with all of the spirits I'll be dragging through it. That's what I brought you lot along for, besides being my guards.** " She looked at the pedestal for a moment, thought about it, and waved off her lance-knights. " **Go on, just stand there and look pretty for now.** "

This was the part of her plan that could theoretically go wrong. She had to command the Gate to do very specific things, and nothing else. She wanted spirits only, nothing else. And certainly not a hoard of those ugly, stinking toad-demons that had undoubtedly come out of this thing in the first place. The difficulty here, was that she didn't know if an object like this could actually _take_ orders. But, as the saying went, 'nothing ventured…'

She finished the thought out loud as she pointed her left hand at the monolith. " **... Nothing gained.** "

She fired Evil Presence at the Hell Gate, pleased initially that the spell connected to begin with. Evil Presence had a nasty habit of arcing away towards things like animals or anything humanoid nearby if the target she wanted wasn't close enough. At first, there was nothing, no resistance to her will, not a shred of acknowledgement that she was doing anything. But that changed, quite abruptly. Another will, one far greater than she had anticipated, slammed back against her spell and partially expelled Evil Presence from the Hell Gate entirely. It was a dark, red, angry will, and this was reflected in the color of the lighting that fought her spell for dominance. In fact, the presence was so violent, so angry, that the red lighting started to push back towards her, snaking out from the Hell Gate along with the struggling bolts of her spell. She brought her other hand up, doubling the intensity of Evil Presence, but that only slowed the red light's approach.

A nervous gulp fell down her throat. " **I, might have bitten off a bit more than I can chew with this one.** "

Then the voices started, howling, raging voices that spilled from the growing red light as screaming faces, only to dissipate mere meters after appearing. That was when she understood what was going on. She wasn't just trying to subjugate one tiny island of demonic will, she'd accidentally reached all the way into Hell and was trying to dominate the whole damn thing at once! All of Hell was clawing its way towards her, intent on who knew what unspeakable things. Human instinct started to take over as fear bubbled up within her chest, and she took a single back-step away.

Her back hit something, momentarily startling her enough so that her pounding heart skipped a beat, and she half-expected it to be some demonic monstrosity. Instead, a familiar, if only since an hour or so ago, glove fell onto her left shoulder while a cold, metallic cylinder pressed up against her right arm. She looked, and was surprised to find her knightess standing there, completely passive as always.

Surprise muffled the stress in her voice. " **You are a very odd demon. I wonder if this is due to all the tampering I did.** "

She looked to the object, surprised, and elated given the situation, to find that it was her staff. She had completely forgotten about the weapon, about the eldritch runes worked into every surface, about the focusing diadem set into the head. The latter in particular emboldened her considerably.

She seized her staff, jabbing the head of the implement defiantly in the advance of Hell's will. She poured everything she had, and as a long-practicing mage and demi-goddess she had a _lot_ to give, into the focusing gem at the end, and she was not disappointed with her father's work. Amplified through the gem, her spell surged right on back against the red light, shoving it back into the Hell Gate within seconds. Seconds later, she felt this odd sort of sense of acceptance. Like a teenager shouting 'fine!' She didn't dare think she'd subjugated all of Hell, but she'd at least earned herself the use of this Gate.

Naturally, given that she'd had the closest thing to a near-death experience in her life, apart from that stupid Gandalf blitzing her when she was distracted, she felt drained. Taking long, even breaths she leaned forward, hands on her knees, and just stood like that for a while, recuperating. Her inborn regenerative abilities ensured that it wasn't long before she was at least feeling decent. Maybe not tip-top, but she could handle random demons by herself without trouble. When she was done with the Gate though, she was going to go and take a nice nap, for eight hours or so.

She stood back up, breathing a long sigh. " **Well, let's never do that again.** " She looked at her four lance-knight demons. " **Some help you lot were right there. Your mistress is about to be overwhelmed and you just stand there? Pft, good help is harder to find than I thought.** "

She was probably being a bit melodramatic. And, really, what could they have done? They were demon spirits with no will or gumption to speak of. It wasn't as if they could have stepped up and helped her push back the will of Hell with 'the power of friendship' or 'love' or any of that heroic nonsense.

She gestured to the pedestal next to the Hell Gate, and one of the lance-knights. " **Go on, get up there. I came out here into the cold for a reason and I'm not leaving till I accomplish it.** " She drew in a long, tired breath. " **And hurry along with it. It's getting colder by the minute.** "

The lance-knight she had motioned to stepped up to the pedestal without hesitation. Given the command she had included in her Evil Presence spell she expected the Gate to, how was the best way to put this, 'scan' her demon knight and facilitate copies at a breakneck pace. Her knight looked quite silly perched on a pedestal that was far too small for standing on, even for her knightess's significantly smaller boots. But, that image didn't last very long. Her knight was indeed "scanned" into the Gate, by being violently disassembled piece by bloody piece. It was made ironically worse by the fact that the demonic knight made no sound at all while it was ripped apart.

This sight, oddly, made her hesitate to order the same fate upon her knightess. It, she, whichever, was functionally a mindless, soulless demon. She should have absolutely zero qualms about sending it to a death. But, for one, she was incredibly proud of her design and artistry. Two, and this was the very silly part, she found that she'd grown a bit of an attachment to it. In the space of a little more than an hour this one servant of hers had stepped up to the plate completely on its own, twice. The latter instance had likely saved her life. Loyalty, and gumption, like that, even if mostly compelled, deserved a little consideration, didn't it?

She sighed at her own thoughts. " **If I do that, what am I going to have the Gate copy for my army of snipers?** " She quickly realized that this was a rhetorical question. " **Oh, right. Just make another one I'm not attached to. Feels odd saying that.** "

She looked at her knightess, over to one of the normal knights, and back. With only a few purposeful gestures she duplicated her feat of artistry, with a few minor changes. She made the new sniper's chest smaller, about a Q cup, for one. But she also made the butt, waist, and legs significantly thicker, almost to the point where this new sniper could be considered chubby, but still enough of a figure that most heterosexual men would pause long enough for her snipers to easily escape melee range. She specified men, because they were overwhelmingly more often than not the soldiers of an army.

She waved her 'new,' new creation forward. " **Alright, lady, your turn. Make me proud.** "

Watching this demon get torn to pieces was just as difficult as the first one. But, her consolation was watching the Hell Gate spit out two demonic knights, one "male," one "female." And then immediately after that two more, and two more, and two more again…

A wan, gleeful smile crossed her lips. " **Worth it, everything up till now was worth it.** " She turned to her now entirely unique knightess. " **You know what, since I've gone through all the trouble of keeping you, I might as well keep you around, at my side that is.** " She sighed. " **Though, I suppose that means I'll have to go through the trouble of giving you a name, instead of just saying 'you' all the time.** " She grinned, a lopsided smirk. " **I'll think about it, try to give you something suitable. You can say thank you anytime.** " Her grin flipped itself. " **Right, I didn't give you a mouth. I'll, work on that, after I get some sleep. It's been, a bit of a rough day.** "

She returned to the library, leaving her army to multiply. On the morrow, this world was going to get what was coming to it. The queen, no, Empress it deserved.


	6. Ladies and Demons

Chapter 5: Ladies And Demons

Castle Fortuna:

Persephone Killgore slowly cracked her eyes, just long enough to ascertain that it was morning, rose up, yawned, and promptly lay right back down. It was a thing of hers, she was a bit slow to actually get out of bed, even if in this particular case her bed was little more than a large chaise lounge with a velvet blanket.

Her eyes opened back up. She let out a long, reluctant sigh, and she looked off to her left, noting that her knightess was sitting in the exact same position she had put the demoness in before nodding off. " **Not even a centimeter, hmm? On top of the mouth, the name, all of that, I'm really going to have to give you your own personality, character, vocal tone… gosh, making a person, more or less, from scratch is hard.** "

She yawned again, shucking the blanket and half rising on one arm. She typically slept on her side, given her proportions she'd smother herself if she slept on her back, or her stomach. The immediately past night was no different. Though, now that she had spent her first night in Fortuna she really wished she had taken the time to clear and ward a room with an actual bed. A big one, with cotton pillows and a mattress so soft a cloud came short.

She rolled to her stomach, reluctant still to get up. " **I keep thinking about this I'm just going to make myself sleepy again.** "

Naturally, given her early-morning-groggy state her gaze dropped towards the ivory melons of flesh below her face. She used her own chest as a pillow sometimes when she slept on her stomach, very comfortable, more so than she imagined most people would think. Groaning, knowing that she _had_ to get up, she pushed herself up and slung her legs off the side of her makeshift bed. The touch of her naked feet on the cool, stone floor sent a jolt up through her that banished most of her drowsiness.

She stretched, reaching her arms high over her head as she mutely gazed out at the sunrise. " **Must be nice to be daddy, no need to sleep at all, so full of energy all the time…** " A low chuckle escaped her and she looked to her, still seated, knightess. " **Kind of like you I expect. Your gaze probably never left the door, all eight hours I was sleeping.** " Again, of course, she did not receive an answer of any kind. " **Ugh, again, I need to give you a mouth, and a voice. All this one-sided conversation makes me sound insane.** "

Shifting her mental priorities, she stood up, as much as the warm blanket still called to her. Rubbing sleep from her eyes she crossed the room to her wardrobe, flinging it open to peruse her assortment of finery. With the light at her back, one dress in particular caught the light brilliantly, the dress she had had made for her impending coronation, or whatever these people would call it, as this world's sovereign. By any turn of phrase, it was nothing less than an obscene display of opulence. So many diamonds studded the floor-length skirt, and most everywhere else, that it could probably qualify as armor. She would be the absolute, unrivaled, shining center of attention at this imagined event, and a mildly dopey smile came over her as she thought about it.

She shook her head. " **Come on now Persephone, you haven't won just yet. That kind of thinking is what lost you Middle Earth. That, and a streak of the most horrendous luck ever known to mankind.** "

Focusing on the present, at least for now, she chose her attire for the day. It was a sundress, as she planned on leaving this arctic region today, in a light red. The cuts were quite modest, considering some of her other outfits, but sometimes less was more. Meaning "less" as in showing less skin, not less fabric. The sundress even had an adorable hat in the same color that went with it. Neither of them were quite what she would call 'pink,' but it was close enough.

She reached for the waist-hem of her night-dress, a velvet and lace masterpiece in deep, luxurious purple, and paused. And then she half-turned to look at her knightess. " **As long as you're right here, you might as well give me a hand with this.** " She beckoned with her index finger. " **Come on, don't be shy. I'm your Mistress, you'll get used to the sights.** " She waited, arms straight up, for her knightess to comply. " **Alright, just grab the hem and lift straight up. Gently now, I happen to like this shift, and if you rip it I'll- AHHHH!** " Her hands dropped to her bare breasts. " **Ghhh, why are your gloves so COLD?** " Her fingers hurriedly massaged warmth back into the suddenly frigid spots of flesh. " **Ah, stupid question. They're cold because you have no body heat and weren't sitting next to my witch-fire. Add that to the list of things I have to give you, body heat. If at the very least for things like this.** " She shivered, in spite of the nearby fire. " **Later though, I do want to see how many of your 'siblings' the Hell Gate has churned out.** "

She dressed herself, fully intent on waiting till she'd tweaked her knightess before asking for any further "help" with her wardrobe. Lingerie, she went with pink, to compliment her outerwear. The sundress was easy, slip it on over her head and let it fall.

A tiny thought occurred to her. " **What am I going to do for shoes?** " She picked up a set of heels, shorter, silver inlay. " **A little more practical if I'm going to be walking about all day.** " Her other hand picked up a different set, taller, gold, with a few decorative rubies. " **Goes much better with the dress, much sexier.** " She didn't debate internally very long, and tossed the first set back into the wardrobe before slipping the second set on and humming while admiring the look in her mirror. " **Ah, a girl always has to make a few allowances for her appearance!** " She stopped posing, drew the witch-fire to her, and beckoned to her knightess. " **Come on, the day's wasting away.** " She chuckled lightly. " **I'm one to talk.** "

She pulled the door, taking the lead, and stood with her back to the hall to wait for the demoness. A tiny bell went off in her head, but she didn't immediately know why.

She heard a sound behind her, and her eyes squeezed shut at the lapse. " **Oh shoot.** "

She'd forgotten to check the hall for the lower, not-under-her-command demons. What a way to start the day. A Scarecrow was probably flying towards her back right now, ready to bury its giant cleaver of an arm in her supple flesh… She was roughly shoved aside, for the second day in a row. And, not really needing a moment to think about it this time, someone else once again took the hit for her. She really needed to start paying better attention to her surroundings.

She turned and identified the demon, indeed a lowly Scarecrow, and leveled her left index finger at it. " **Points for stealth, failure for execution.** " A burst of flame, as if she were going to make the same lightning-conductivity-accidentally-electrocute-the-one-who-saved-you mistake two days in a row, erased the demon. She turned back to her knightess. " **Thanks, again.** " A wry grin twisted her mouth. " **I'm not trying to make a habit of this, really.** " She beckoned the feminine demon towards her. " **Come on, I know you got hit doing that. Let me look…** "

Obediently, her knightess turned and stepped towards her. Her assumption was correct, there was a long, seemingly shallow gash on her knightess that started at the top of the shoulder and ran about twelve centimeters straight down. The demoness's armor had mitigated the blow, not negated it. But, demons were about all muscle and no brains. So she imagined that the armor would fare much better against human opponents. Even then, her knightess wasn't supposed to be getting hit in the first place.

She reached her hand towards the wound. " **Let's see here…** " Her fingers touched the edges of the wound, brushing the pale, blue-white ichor welling up out of it. At this touch her knightess, albeit infinitesimally, flinched. " **Oh, so you do feel pain. I'm… sorry?** " She muttered, mostly to herself. " **I can't heal a normal person but, maybe with you…** "

Bearing in mind that her knightess was completely made of magic she tried the same thing she had done when modifying her from the standard "male" design. Method being, simply ordering the flesh to close, mentally. Doing so out loud would have just sounded silly, even though she was the only currently sentient being here. The wound, to her surprise, closed.

A small grin crossed her face. " **Well, how about that? You get hurt I just order you to not be hurt.** " Her grin became sheepish. " **Ah, we'll try to avoid that though, for the both of us.** " She shook her head, mildly confused as to why she was talking so much to something that wasn't talking back. " **Eh, let's, just get to the courtyard. I need to accomplish** _ **something**_ **today.** "

She led the way, again. This time, she kept her eyes peeled. Her knightess followed behind, silently, obediently, loyally.

Castle Fortuna: Courtyard

Persephone Killgore was utterly ecstatic. The courtyard, formerly forlorn and barren, was now utterly teeming with angelic soldiers. HER angelic soldiers. She wouldn't even begin to try and count all of them, it might take days in and of itself. Split exactly down the middle, half of them "male," half of them "female." Most of them were actually flying, because there simply wasn't enough space on the ground for all of them to crowd together.

She let out an impressed whistle. " **Now that is an army worthy of me; powerful, obedient, and beautiful to boot.** " She started pointing slowly. " **Ok, you, you, you, you, and you two there. Stick around. As for the rest of you…** " She paused, savoring the moment as her heart sang with delight. " **The rest of you, kill everything that isn't you and me in this castle. Then, lock it all down. Nothing gets in unless I say so.** " She made a grandiose gesture to the "female" half of her silent audience. " **And you ladies, you get to man the walls when that gets done. Anything you see approaching that isn't me or one of you, shoot them in the face.** " She made a gentle shooing motion with the tips of her fingers. " **Well go on, get to it!** "

The angelic host scattered like wasps from a kicked nest, racing to do her bidding without even a breath of hesitation. The lance-bearers, at least so far as she could tell given her limited viewpoint, kept to the ground. Her lady-snipers, kept to the sky. She didn't know if they intended to shoot from the wing, or how effective that would be, but they were doing what she told them to do. And, if by some turn of events she lost a few, more pairs were still coming out of the Hell Gate, one about every three seconds. She was beyond golden for troops.

She brought her attention back down. " **Now then, about you six…** " She grinned mischievously. " **You lot get the honor of being my personal bodyguards for today, sound like fun? We're even going on a trip!** " A thought occurred to her that momentarily dampened her good mood. " **Wait, am I really going to have to walk all the way there?** " And, like a switch, her mood flipped back to 'good.' " **Oh of course not, silly me. I can just have one of you carry me.** " One finger on her right hand tapped her lower lip thoughtfully. " **Hmm, now which one of you gets that special honor?** " She pointed at one of the four lance-demons she'd picked out of the crowd. " **You maybe? We could act out that whole 'knight-carrying-the-princess' thing for the flight!** " She paused for a full five seconds to laugh. " **Oh, I don't think so. You can't talk, and I'm not going to bother giving you a voice just for a joke.** " She looked towards one of the two female demons. " **One of you? I daresay it would probably be a much more comfortable flight. I mean, you specifically don't need to see exactly where we're going, so long as we're flying with the flock.** " She giggled aloud. " **Oh goodness I'm horrible.** " Footsteps in the snow drew her attention, and she found that her knightess had stepped forward, closer to her. " **You're, volunteering?** " She giggled again at a lower volume. " **How odd, I could almost start to think you** _ **want**_ **to touch me.** " She shrugged. " **Well, it might as well be you. But, first things first if that's going to be the case…** " She stepped forward and touched a finger to her knightess's body. " **You most certainly are NOT going to be touching me again with those horridly frigid gauntlets of yours. So we're going to wait right here till you warm up, and the armor along with you.** "

She set her staff horizontally in the air right about at waist-height. It wasn't a particularly comfortable seat, but it was a seat. After a few moments though, she realized that, in hindsight, she really needn't have bothered with the little monologue over who would be carrying her towards the Order fortress. Every one of them, her knightess included, didn't generate body heat. Every one of them would have required the same little modification she was only now waiting for to take effect.

She frowned as she leaned forward. " **This could actually take a while…** "

Fortuna Skies:

Persephone Killgore smiled to herself as she looked towards the sun. It was around midday now, so that meant she was looking just about straight up. Things were, clearer, up here. She could see for kilometers in every direction. She could see the city, the Opera House rising above the whole thing. She could see that abandoned mining town, the one that should have been reduced to ash. And, if she looked back, she could see Castle Fortuna. Maybe this was why her father liked to hop around so much, the view. She couldn't decide whether the man would appreciate the commanding aspect, or the feeling that 'there's so much to do!'

She smirked lightly and dropped her gaze to the method of her current altitude. " **What do you think? Oh, wait, you've never met daddy. Never mind!** "

Of course, she was being carried through the sky as was proper for a lady of her position. Ergo, the classic 'princess carry.' Her butt was cradled in a nice little circle made by her knightess's arms. Not exactly first-class, but it was better than walking.

She hummed aloud. " **You know, we do have a moment. I mean, as long as we're all the way up here. I could work on a few of those things I said I'd do.** " She reached down with her free hand and tapped the lower half of the demoness's 'mask,' causing it to vanish and reveal the featureless black face beneath. " **You know, now that I think about it, that shade of black just does not go with the shade of white I chose for your armor.** " She snapped her fingers, choosing instead a bright, shiny white for her knightess's flesh. " **Much better. Now, about that mouth…** "

She traced a line across the pearly flesh as if looking in a mirror, giving her creation at least a cosmetic mouth. She needed to use her imagination for the throat, the voice box, etc. Even though the latter object in this case was still little more than a useless object at the present moment. She still hadn't figured what she wanted the lady-demon to sound like.

She took her hand away, paused, and shivered slightly. " **Egh, you need lips too. That slit looks rather creepy just sitting there by itself.** " Her fingers went to that 'slit,' and pinched. " **Now, pucker. You need to be presentable for when I bring you home.** "

To her amusement, the knightess moved her new mouth experimentally, without prompting. The motion looked oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite place why. She still needed a name though, and that's where her mind drifted next.

She idly tapped her lower lip. " **Names… Daddy would probably come up with something Greek. Why is it always, no, I don't need to ask that. That's Aunt Sophitia's influence. Bjorn was the choice of that giant crybaby of a mermaid… Oh I can't remember her name right now. Not really all that important, I suppose.** " It came to her, like a light switching on. " **I know, you look like an emissary from a god so, why not Deva?** " She smiled, tested it a few times in the privacy of her head, and spoke again. " **Yes, that'll do I think. From now on, your name is Deva.** " Her gaze chanced downwards, and a small laugh escaped her. " **Well now, fancy that. There's another four letter name just loitering around.** " She smirked imperiously. " **I really figured he would have run rampant through the Order stronghold by now. Ah, I guess I just expect too much of him!** " She waved to her escort. " **We'll set down there, next to the lout in the blue coat.** " Once she figured she was in ear-shot she called out. " **Yoo-hoo! Nero!** "

The young man turned around and looked up. For a long moment, Nero really didn't seem to fathom just what he was looking at. The dumb look on his face said that amply enough. When his gaze wandered to her escort though, he started to reach for his gun.

She held her hands up as Deva set her down. " **Easy there trigger-man, they're with me. They're not going to hurt you unless you try to hurt me, or them.** "

The young knight didn't draw his gun, but his hand didn't move away from it either. "This, this is what you did down in the labs? You hijacked the Order's demons?"

She shrugged, grinning while she did so. " **Well, clearly it's far better for them to be following my orders, no? After all, I'm not the one setting demons on the world, because reasons.** " Her grin widened. " **Unless, you've come to some great revelation while we've been apart? Some great realization?** " She giggled lightly. " **Seeing as you aren't even at the Order stronghold yet, I somewhat doubt it.** "

Nero gave her a blank gaze. "I missed your half-baked insults SO much."

She feigned hurt. " **Oh, come on now. I'm serious!** " She put out an arm and dragged one of her lady-demons closer. " **I mean really, haven't I done such a better design job than the Order?** " She made a grandiose show of presenting the demoness. " **I mean, just look at how lovely she looks!** "

Silently, she gave the demoness a short set of instructions, instructions on how to pose. Back to Nero, bent over, brazenly showcasing the butt, and looking over the shoulder at Nero with one finger on the lips of the mask. Naturally, given how she knew Nero up to this point, the young knight went pale and tried to avert his gaze, emphasis on "tried." She on the other hand, was utterly dying on the inside she was laughing so hard. She'd figured it out a long time ago, mostly based on stories her father and mother/aunts told, men in particular hesitated when a situation called on them to harm a beautiful woman. So yes, there was in fact a point to designing her lady-demons to look like something out of an adult magazine; a particularly surreal adult magazine. That and, of course, she held herself as a perfect specimen of woman. Who better to derive a body from?

She grinned, deciding to twist the metaphorical knife, and sauntered up beside the petrified Nero before leaning her lips toward his right ear. " **If you want, just say the word and you can have her. I mean she doesn't have the right plumbing, but I can fix that in an instant.** " She mentally gave Deva an order, and commented on the knightess's similar pose. " **Or, do you like a lady who's a touch more athletic?** " She stepped away from the young man, striking her own pose. " **Or, are you the greedy type?** "

Nero almost looked horrified. He was pale enough that he was nearly translucent, blood was leaking from his nose, and his pupils were dilated in so far she couldn't even see them. Rather understandably, the young man pitched backwards, fainting dead away. She halfway died of a giggling fit before parking herself on a convenient rock to wait for the poor young man to wake up.

A thought flit through her head, which she felt compelled to voice arrogantly. " **Betcha Kyrie never did anything like that to him.** "

Forest:

Persephone Killgore silently watched the unconscious Nero, devious thoughts running through her head at a kilometer per second. She'd pranked her brother so many times, she had a bag of literal tricks that could, back to back, ruin a person's life for a year. But she figured most of them were a little much to inflict on a person she only knew for a little while. Still, she had to do _something_. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up…

She muttered to herself. " **If only I had a marker. It'd be harmless, he would never know, and I would laugh every time I looked at his face.** " She giggled at the thought. " **I'd give him that cheesy mustache, eyeliner combo. He'd look like an idiot!** " Mind still set on pranks, her eyes drifted to Nero's hair. " **Oh, that'll do for now I guess.** "

She stood up and took the two steps it took to reach the unconscious knight. Half-kneeling to keep her sun-dress out of the dirt, she double-tapped the young man's white hair. Within seconds, the mop of white hair had more than tripled in length, including Nero's bangs. He'd look like a hippie when he stood up.

She smirked as she stood up. " **Yes, that'll do.** " She went back to her rock, planting her butt exactly where she'd been only a few seconds ago. " **Now, I wait, again.** " A few minutes passed, silently. " **Ok, that's enough waiting. I've got things to do.** "

She aimed her fingers and shot a weak pulse of lightning into the unconscious young man, he bolted upright promptly. "GHA-! What the…" Nero grabbed at this suddenly meters long hair. "What the hell?"

She laughed, out loud. " **Oh I'm sorry… no, no I'm not. You have to understand, you were out cold. I HAD to do something funny. I mean, really, what kind of man passes out because of too much visual stimulation?** " She lightly jabbed a thumb at the lady-demon she'd had pose. " **My brother would have straight up pounced on her if I'd said 'have at her' as I did to you.** " She paused. " **Eh, in jest though. You, didn't really think I was seriously whoring out one of my knightesses? Right?** "

Nero, through a parted curtain of hair, gave her a glare. "You sounded really damn convincing." The young man shook a huge wad of his hair at her. "Ok, the joke's over. Are you going to fix this or do I have to hack it off myself?"

She stood up, pouting. " **Well fine Mr. Stick-in-the-mud, I'll fix it.** " She pointed to the rock she'd been sitting on. " **Park it there, I'm not kneeling in the dirt to give you a trim.** "

Nero shot right back as he stood up. "You wouldn't be giving me a trim if you hadn't cast a spell on my hair in the first place."

She shoved the young man into place. " **Yes, yes, we've been over this. Now hold still, you don't want me to cut something wrong and make you look even worse.** "

Nero barked at her. "Just hack it off and get this over with!"

She brought her hands up to where Nero's hairline used to be. " **Shush, you want me to give you a haircut fine, but I'm going to do a good job at it and make you look nice. So be a little grateful, and take some pride in your appearance.** "

The young knight's silence told her that he'd realized that he wasn't going to win the argument and she started cutting, using her index and middle fingers like a set of scissors. She waited to just trim the length, mostly because she didn't want Nero to have an excuse to stand up.

After about five silent minutes of her working, Nero broke the pregnant silence. "So, eh, I don't recall seeing those, er, female demons at the castle."

A proud smile split her face. " **You like them? I made them myself. Deva there, she's the more athletic-looking one, I made from scratch, more or less. The ones that look just about chubby I hashed out in a rush when I figured out that I'd need to fundamentally sacrifice Deva to the Hell Gate to make more of them. For the oddest reasons, mostly because she stepped up on her own to save my skin, I felt bad about doing that to her.** " She continued chattering. " **I'm still tweaking her design, gave her a mouth and actual body-heat just this morning, but I think she's nothing short of a work of art, no? What do you think?** "

Nero's voice came out completely flat. "I think I can't see 'her' to judge."

She chuckled lightly. " **Oh don't be like that. You saw her plenty well before you fainted, I made sure of that what with that seductive little pose I made her do.** "

Nero made another flat comment. "I'm trying to forget that actually."

Genuinely surprised, she stopped cutting. " **What do you mean? She's absolutely gorgeous. Why would you want to forget beauty like that?** "

Again, the young knight put about as much feeling into his words as there was air in space. "Demon. What else do I need to say?"

Rather offended at the tone Nero was taking, she "accidentally" yarded on his hair. " **Don't listen to this narrow-minded idiot Deva, you're lovely. I know because I made you.** " Her dexterous fingers went back to styling as if nothing had happened. " **And you're really in no position to object Nero. It's a two out of three shot that you were turned on to the point of fainting by a demon girl.** " She smirked confidently. " **Unless you're willing to admit full-stop that it was me that made you faint.** "

Nero continued being difficult. "Two out of three?' You hardly look human."

Offended, again, she scowled. " **Hey, I am one-hundred percent human lady, thank you very much. And a perfect specimen on top of that.** "

Her continued trimming revealed Nero's mouth, which twisted up in a grimace. "Glowing purple eyes and paper white skin?"

She shot back. " **It's 'ivory,' 'marble,' or 'alabaster' if you don't mind. Paper is just so plain. And, well, father might have become something more than human before he got mother pregnant. But that changes nothing!** "

Nero continued scowling. "Ah huh, sure."

Silence fell again, lasting a span of three full minutes before she took it upon herself to break it. " **What's holding you up? I figured you'd have plowed through the Order's fortress all by yourself by now.** "

Nero's face took on an annoyed look. "A demon destroyed the bridge through the forest. Damn thing keeps knocking me out of the air when I try to cross the gap with, other means." The knight's demonic arm pointed off to the distance behind her. "That one right up there, the one crapping seeds all over the forest."

She paused her work to look over her shoulder, noticing the flying snake-looking demon for the first time. " **Well, would you look at that?** " She scowled lightly. " **How exactly did I only just now notice it?** " Returning to her current project she thought for a moment before speaking again. " **Want some help? I was headed towards the Order's fortress myself.** "

Nero's scowl deepened. "From you, not really. But, it doesn't look like I have much of a choice."

She made a few small detail cuts. " **Oh don't be such a grump, this is going to be fun! We get to bond over dead demons. You can hardly complain about that.** " She stepped back, admiring her work. " **And, done! Ooh, I think you look much better like this.** "

She'd left Nero's hair a touch longer than it had been, giving the young man a more, how to say, dignified visage than the effeminate look the young knight had been sporting before. Granted, his face was still rather girly, but, it looked better. In her incredibly un-humble opinion of course.

She smirked. " **Yes, much better. Don't you think, ladies?** "

Just for fun she had the two "normal" demonesses lean in towards Nero as if they were genuinely interested, and, of course, the young man shied away while both blushing and grimacing. Maybe she should give them both cleavage-windows on their armor to make their appearance more arresting? Maybe later…

She gestured to the flying demon-snake. " **Well, enough loitering. We've got ourselves an ugly demonic roadblock to remove! Let's go!** " She smirked lightly. " **After you, Nero. You know the way, right?** "

Scowling, Nero nonetheless started off down a path into the verdant trees that, at least in general, looked to lead towards flying demon. He might not be having fun, but she was. And that was the important part here. Maybe she could get him to lighten up, maybe.


	7. Gardening

Chapter 6: Gardening

Forest:

Persephone Killgore smiled openly, humming to herself as she sauntered along behind Nero down the forest path. Birds were chirping in the trees, small animals were capering through the brush; it was really quite the nice place. And, there was a demon "crapping" seeds all over the place. She felt mildly offended by that, and she normally didn't give the slightest whit of a care for the environment. Case in point, her 'Apocalypse from the Sky' spell. She could level a continent with that, with no effort. Granted it took her a few minutes to actually cast, but still, you didn't make a spell like that if you were a tree-hugger. She figured she was more offended by the fact that she considered this place her property, or at least future property, and demon-seedlings everywhere turned a peaceful stroll through the woods into a chore.

An exaggerated, fake-weary sigh escaped her. " **Nero, are you sure you know where you're going? I like long walks as much as the next girl, but at this rate it'll be dark before we find anything. And I need my beauty sleep.** "

Nero shot her an annoyed glare. "If you want to try flying and getting beaned out of the sky, be my guest. I'll laugh when you get hit."

She pouted, a part of her genuinely hurt by the hostility. " **Now you're just being mean.** "

The young knight, though she was feeling less inclined to keep thinking of him that way, responded with his back to her. "Whatever." She resumed humming, and after only a few seconds Nero whirled about with a far more perturbed look to him. "And stop humming! Is that even a song?"

She mirrored the miffed look. " **In point of fact it is, allow me to demonstrate.** "

She took a moment, centered herself, coughed lightly. Just as she started to inhale a thought crossed her mind. ' **Oh my gosh, I'm about to sing, on purpose, where someone else can hear me. Something must be wrong with me…** '

But, ignoring the thought, she did indeed start to sing. " ** _Fly me to the moon_** ** _and let me play among the stars_** **.** ** _Let me see what spring is like_** ** _on Jupiter and Mars._** ** _In other words,_** ** _hold my hand!_** ** _In other words, Darling kiss me!_** " She did a little acapella to fill the space to the next verse. " ** _Fill my heart with song,_** ** _and let me sing for ever more._** ** _You are all I long for_** **,** ** _all I worship and adore._** " Again, a bit of acapella. " ** _In other words_** **,** ** _please be true! In other words,_** ** _I love you…_** _!_ "

She ended the song early, both because finishing technically meant repeating the lyrics twice more, with a lot of acapella in between, and she realized that the song she had sung was really, _really_ high up there on the 'romantic' list. Still, she had achieved the desired result. Not only did she feel a great sense of catharsis from singing aloud, for someone other than herself, but her one-man audience looked utterly dumbstruck, mouth hanging open and everything.

Smirking arrogantly, she reached out and playfully pinched the side of Nero's face. " **I'm sorry, did I just blow your mind?** "

It took three whole seconds for Nero to react, to feebly slap her hand away. "Uh, yeah, yeah… wow."

She brushed by the young man, drawing the index finger of her left hand across the bottom of Nero's jaw. " **I know, I know, I'm amazing. Contain your enthusiasm.** " She kept walking for a short ways, swishing her hips a trifle more than usual, before stopping near a turn in the foliage. " **You know what else, I think I'm going to do one more thing for both of our benefit.** " She turned her face towards her knightess. " **Deva, be a dear and fly up just a little ways to point out which direction that giant demon is from here.** "

Obediently, the angelic demoness took off through the canopy above with a small shower of leaves and a fresh beam of sunlight. A drop in the bucket compared to what she had brewing in her head.

Nero's gaze had followed Deva up. "What are you-"

She cut him off. " **Shush, let the lady do her work and then you'll see.** "

Deva came back down without incident, gracefully alighting like, well, an angelic envoy. Wordlessly, because she still needed to pick out an appropriate vocal style, the demoness pointed straight down the curve of the forest path.

She grinned wickedly. " **Perfect.** " She planted the blade on her staff in the ground and brought her hands up, paused, and shot a coy glance back towards Nero. " **If you thought my voice was amazing, you're really going to love this.** "

Violet lighting started to course through the air around her hands, as if her very flesh were made of tesla coils. She let the charge build, and build, and build some more… honestly just for show. She was channeling quite a lot of her 'level-a continent' power, and she wanted it to look suitably impressive. With poise, she drew her hands up in front of her in what could almost be called a meditative pose. In reality, it was more like the barrel of a house-sized cannon.

She smirked, just about whispering a single word for dramatic effect. " **Go!** "

The world to her front became a mass of violet light, complete with a booming thunder blast that by itself flattened the trees to her rear. More importantly, her one gigantic blast had cleared a direct ground route towards the snake-demon. Specifically, a three kilometer wide, twenty kilometer long swath of the forest no longer existed. That same space was now sporting nothing but a smoking, furrowed channel of flash-melted electric glass. She felt only the tiniest twinge of regret for the mass-destruction of her future property, primarily because she could just grow the mess back with magic, over a week or two.

A small breath escaped her, and a short sentence under her breath. " **Phew, I, might have overdone it, just a little.** " She pirouetted on the spot with a grand flourish, hoping silently that her moment of fatigue would go missed. " **Well? Do I work wonders or not?** "

Nero wasn't saying much of anything at the moment. The young man was currently flat on his butt, back to the unyielding leg of one of her demon-knights. His expression spoke volumes though, interestingly enough not an ounce of fear. She did see astonishment, she did see disbelief, and she most certainly saw amazement. The latter buoyed her ego like a helium blimp on a potato.

She sauntered over, slowly, before stopping just far enough away that she could look down at Nero over her bosom. " **Hello? I asked you a question Mister Silent-Treatment.** "

Eventually, after a few ashen chucks of the vaporized forest drifted down onto his head, Nero did answer, sort of. "Uh, yeah, really wonderful."

She giggled, rather loudly, and knelt down to offer the young knight a hand. " **Come on, I didn't do that for you to gawk at the landscape. We have a giant demon to kill, remember?** " After a few seconds, during which Nero continued to just vacantly gaze at the destruction she'd wrought, she reached out her offered hand and pet him lightly on the cheek a few times. " **Hello? *whistle* Persephone to Nero?** "

The young man reflexively swung at her hand, his focus dialing back in. "Pft, what the hell are you… beh…" His face went red, and his gaze dove into the dirt.

She smirked happily, not needing even a second to think about why given the time, however short, she'd known the young knight. He was at eye level, and not a third of a meter away from her womanly splendor. She didn't know precisely why she got such a kick out of making Nero feel embarrassed, but at least it was cute. There was that.

She grabbed Nero by the front of his coat and stood, hauling the young knight up with her. " **Really now, how many times do I have to tell you it's ok to stare? I genuinely do not mind.** " She gave the, now standing, knight a light shove in the direction they were headed. " **Just think about it very carefully if you get it in your head that you want to try touching.** "

Nero's face went an even deeper shade of red, and he spun about before hustling off as fast as he could without being considered 'running.' For her part, she followed with a huge grin plastered across her face. She actually entertained the thought, however briefly, of smacking him on the tush, just to see what he'd do. Although, he'd probably just get mad and whatever small rapport she'd built would get torn down. It'd be funny, but ultimately self-destructive. And she didn't consider herself the stupid type.

Her heels dug into the glassed ground with a sharp snap, and she muttered to herself. " **Oh dear, and I thought my shoes were a bad choice for walking over regular dirt…** " An idea occurred to her, and she immediately went with it. " **Nero!** " She called out.

The young man stopped, flinching like a child caught sneaking away from the scene of a crime. "What?"

She stopped moving forward, a pout on her lips. " **I can't walk over this!** " When Nero turned she made a small show of stumbling to the right, acting like she would completely lose her balance. " **Will you carry me?** "

The young man gave her a look that could only be described as 'confuzzled.' "Wha… What?"

She pouted more, letting her lower lip quiver a little. " **You wouldn't make me walk through broken glass now, would you? I don't have the shoes for it!** "

Nero's face turned completely ashen. "You, can't be serious!"

She retorted, dying laughing on the inside. " **Of course I am!** "

The young man just stared silently for a very long time, eyes darting between her, the ground, and over her shoulder. His hands twitched, which made her internally celebrate. The guy clearly _wanted_ to, but his decency was getting in the way.

Nero's non-demonic arm came up and pointed, just past her. "Why don't you just have one of them carry you?"

She paused, internally dumbstruck. Nero, for his part, breathed a mighty sigh of relief and started walking again. " **Confound it, foiled by common sense…** " She indeed, silently, ordered one of her male demon knights to comply. But not without some barely audible grumbling. " **Unbelievable. I give him permission to touch the most perfectly constructed woman to ever grace mankind, and he says** ** _no_** **? How long is this stick up his butt, him saying no to me?** "

It was very petulant of her, she realized that within a couple of heartbeats, but she couldn't really help herself. She knew full well that her father and aunt had spoiled her rotten, their own words. She could practically see a phantom of her father before her, silently wagging his finger in admonishment. But, REALLY? He was seeing what she saw in the mirror every morning, right? He hadn't lost THAT much blood when he fainted earlier.

She mumbled to herself. " **Maybe I messed up his head a little, by accident, when I tweaked his memories…** "

A roar interrupted her irate musings, a very loud one, a very, oddly, feminine one. She looked up to find that they, her little band of bodyguards and Nero, had traversed the entire length of her forest-clearing. Now, that giant demon was confronting them, right in the shadow of another Hell Gate. Go figure. She was more immediately concerned by how she had burned through twenty kilometers of ground travel grumbling over a guy.

The demon, the 'head' of which opened up like a flower to reveal that it was in fact a 'demoness,' shrieked at them. "You insensate brutes! Where are my children to live if you blast half the forest to ash?"

She had her demon knight set her down, and she answered the query with a smarmy grin. " **You shouldn't be complaining too much. I think the 'ash' look would suit you much better!** "

Nero chimed in, echoing the tone of her taunt while brandishing his oversized revolver. "That's not a bad idea. Bring the whole family, I'll give them all the same look."

The giant demon, rather ironically succumbing to its own "insensate" comment, charged, barreling straight towards the both of them while turtling back up inside the fake 'snake head.' It was rather shockingly easy to avoid, even swaying about as it was. She personally didn't even have to exert herself, as one of her knights, Deva probably, seized her by the shoulders and dragged her out of harm's way. When the demon passed completely by, Nero didn't even look liked he'd moved at all.

The young knight shot her a surprisingly calm look. "So, we pissed it off. Got any other plans, or do we just wing it and kill the damn thing?"

She made a greatly exaggerated 'hmmm' before answering. " **Oh, I think the latter is the best option right now. I mean, you really don't think it'll just give us the time to stand around and chat to come up with a plan now that its decided to kill us, now do you?** "

Nero absently drew his gun, shooting seed pods out of the air behind him without even looking. "I don't know, seems like it's doing a pretty bad job of 'trying to kill us' so far."

The man's glibness brought a genuine half-smile to her face. " **Well, there is that. And it's seven-on-one odds right now. I'd say that's probably the best numerical odds you've ever had, right? The rest of the Order really doesn't seem up to fighting demons of this size, or the little ones for that matter.** "

The demon dove through again, once more missing Nero, who again only seemed to exert the minimum of effort to avoid it, while simultaneously giving it a solid smack on the body with his sword. "They usually just sent me, so yeah, not really. I'd have ended up fighting this thing by myself eventually. Should be a lot easier with some other bodies for it to aim at." The young knight grinned. "Would have been easy anyways."

Based on the last few seconds, she would have to agree. Not that the demon seemed all that smart anyways, but Nero was demonstrating a very exemplary set of physicality, reaction speed, and agility. The only comparison she could draw was, well, her father. Both of them had the same sort of air of contemptuous ease about them in a fight. That duel she'd witnessed in the Opera House notwithstanding, against, what had she heard, Dante?

Nero barked at her. "Hey, pay attention!"

Her immediate reaction was a very dumb-sounding 'eh?' That was before she looked up and saw the demon diving towards her instead of Nero. " **Oh, right, that thing's still here.** "

She took it upon herself to evade this time, teleporting herself and her retinue a good halfway across the clearing in front of the Hell Gate. Situated and focused, at least for the time being, she gestured that same retinue towards the demon with a curt 'kill it' order. Her knights, Deva excluding, tore upwards into the sky after the demon, which for the time being was ignoring them.

She hummed thoughtfully. " **I wonder, can it see where it's going when its head is closed like that?** " Acting upon her thought, her knights flew out in front of the demon in a spread square, waiting for the right moment. She gestured down with two fingers on her right hand. " **You get down here where Nero can hit you.** "

In time with her fingers the four demon knights simultaneously dove in and smashed their shields against the top half, or bottom half, she couldn't really tell the bloody thing twisted around so much, of the fake snake-head. The struck demon careened earthward, opening up and stopping at ground-level, but just before crashing.

The giant demon shrieked, at her specifically this time. "You'll pay for that!"

Smirking royally, she daintily pointed at the air over the demon's shoulder. " **Look out behind you.** "

In a shocking, and disappointing, display of gullibility the demon did indeed turn it's humanoid body to look, only to writhe out of the way when Nero vaulted into that space with sword flashing. The immediate retaliation was a very long sweep of the thing's suddenly barbed tail.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to state the obvious. " **Oh shoot that's long!** "

While she was sure she had the mental capacity to figure out where to teleport to avoid taking a hit, the choice was taken out of her hands as Deva, she could tell by the slender fingers, swooped in and hauled her bodily into the air by the waist.

She glanced over her shoulder at the demoness. " **You know, you could pay a little less attention to keeping me safe and a little more to shooting that demon in the face, ok? I'm a big girl, I can watch out for myself…** " She grudgingly added. " **Most of the time.** "

Face falling as if disappointed, Deva dropped her at the edge of the clearing before zooming off towards a different point. As for the ongoing battle, the demon had flown up again, straight up. And was now diving straight down, not apparently aiming for either her or Nero.

Her mouth moved almost on its own. " **What in blazes is it…** "

The unfinished question was answered when the demon spun about at the last minute. Instead of its 'head' splitting open, its tail did, and the many divisions speared the ground, creating what looked objectively like a gazeebo, complete with a… glowing, closed flower in the middle? Before she could ask the obvious question again, aloud or internally, that 'flower' convulsed and out dropped a writhing mass of bladed tentacles and slimy petals, which was moving. She threw up a little in her mouth, before letting out a shrill cry of disgust and blasting the small thing into a cloud of ash with a lightning bolt. And then another dropped out, and another, and another…

She half-way screamed, and her words blended together. " **Someone do something it's disgusting!** "

Nero was the first one to act. Said act was rushing straight towards the 'flower' and jumping for it, fist first. Another creature dropped out, lashing at Nero with its tentacles, and forced the young man to clumsily re-direct himself in mid-air. Deva though, the demoness flew through and grabbed Nero by the boot before flinging him right back towards the original target. Nero connected and, of all possible actions, punched it. **A Lot**. Great gouts of pink _fluid_ splashed out with every blow, soaking both the ground and, rather tragically, Deva, as the demoness flew out from under the demonic canopy.

On the plus side, the giant demon screamed in agony, of course, and flew back up so the rest of the 'things' could be dealt with. The tangential downside, was that her lady-parts were suddenly feeling rather sore for no physical reason. It was stupid of her to empathize for even a fraction of a second with a giant, not to mention revolting, demon. But it was happening.

She shook her head, banishing the empathy from her mind. " **I know we've only been at this for a few minutes, if that, but I still feel like this is taking too long…** " She looked up, tracking the flying demon for a short way. " **Ah, right, I can always shoot at it myself. That'll speed things up.** " She brought up her right hand and mimed a gun, because reasons. " **Bang.** "

A bolt of iridescent light leaped from her fingertip, to whiff completely. To be perfectly fair to her, the demon did just suddenly writhe through the air and make a perfect loop for her shot to go through, but it was still very, very vexing. She compensated by sending her four knights after the target immediately, but the damage to her image was done.

Nero barked over his own gun's rapports. "So, you need glasses or something? Or does it just need to be sitting still for you to hit it?"

She did not deign to answer that. Although the comment did conjure up the mental image of herself with a cosmetic set of glasses, thin-framed. The freeze-frame vision gave her a 'sultry teacher' look… now was a bad time for daydreaming about alternate wardrobes.

She tried taunting the demon. " **Yoohoo, grotesque-woman-wannabee, your children make wonderful sounds when I blast them to ash!** "

In a word, she succeeded. The demon did an aerial about-face and dove towards her with all the speed it could manage.

She grinned, and murmured to herself. " **Not going to dodge me now, are you…** " As the beast drew closer she kept a count. " **Five, four, three, two…** "

Just as she was about to bring up her hand and more or less shotgun the demon from point-blank range a tremendous report split the air, and the demon's head. As the giant body turned to ash and faded away she just stood there for a moment, confused. Nero's pistol, large as it was, wasn't nearly as loud. Then who… oh, of course. She turned around. Sure enough, Deva was standing some distance behind her, rifle propped on shield exactly as she had envisioned. The end of the rifle was smoking.

Quietly fuming, a small pout puffed her lips. " **Kill-stealer…** "


	8. Obligatory Cliché Fanservice Chapter

Chapter 7: Obligatory Cliché Fanservice Filler Chapter

Forest:

Persephone Killgore found herself seated, staring up at the stone slab of the Hell Gate. Had this moment of contemplation taken place a day ago, she would have been puzzling out how to twist it to her use, but, now that she had the Gate in Fortuna Castle working for her this was a bit of a redundancy. Not to mention, this forest clearing was hardly defensible by anything except mass numbers. She _could_ still try anyway, but considering what she'd almost had happen to her in Fortuna Castle when she'd subjugated that Gate, she could pass on an extra.

She absently called to Nero over her shoulder. " **Is Deva back yet?** "

Though she wasn't looking she could tell by Nero's tone that he was pacing impatiently, and by his boot steps. "No, not yet. Considering you told her to not come back until she was 'perfectly clean." There was a sigh of exasperation. "You do realize it's going to be dark soon? You don't have to fly your way back to your castle?"

She waved off the concern. " **Daddy didn't raise a paper doll. I can handle one night in the wild. Besides, magic. I can fabricate all the comforts of home right here, or at least passable facsimiles.** " Her attention shifted skyward for a moment, long enough to note that the sky was indeed starting to darken as dusk approached, before looking back to the Hell Gate. " **Eh, one is enough. Two is an eyesore.** "

She aimed her fingers at the slab, once again miming a gun. Her first shot took away roughly a quarter of the stone, and while that was probably in and of itself enough to seal the Gate she kept shooting till the slabs were little more than tile-sized. Come to think of it, it would make a rather nice floor in a foyer…

She shook her head once. " **Oh me, now's not the time for that. Fortuna can be spruced up plenty nice without daydreaming here.** "

Nero shot another comment her way. "You talk to yourself a lot, you know that?"

She once again answered without looking towards the young knight. " **I have a lot of good thoughts, and I feel that I should share those thoughts with those around me. Even if I'm alone.** " When Nero didn't immediately offer a rebuttal she smiled, considering the minor argument won, and dragged her gaze across the ruins of the Hell Gate. " **Hold on now, what's this little trinket?** "

She stood, swaggering for no particular reason, and stepped over to the small pedestal to the right of the pile of rubble. There was a, green blob of light hovering over it. She reached out to it, and was mildly surprised when the orb presented resistance to her initial touch before yielding. This object had mass and, now that she was close, smelled of demons. She could probably identify it at some point, with a touch of work, but her cursory examination suggested that the object was largely inert. She couldn't use it, so it was useless. She heard the flapping of wings, so she shunted the object into a small magical pocket-dimension for now.

She looked to the sound, pleased to see her most dedicated servant returning. " **Deva, there you are.** " Her smile quickly morphed into a scowl. " **What possibly took you so long? I understand I impressed upon you exacting detail but it's nearly dark out.** " She approached the knightess, lowering the volume of her voice. " **I'm going to have to camp here. I HATE camping.** " A melodramatic whimper entered her whisper. " **I miss my bed already.** "

Nero flatly spoke up. "Can still hear you."

She suppressed a blush, mostly, and spoke normally again. " **Seriously though, what took you so long? All I asked you to do was bathe.** " Deva's answer, because she still couldn't speak, was to tug at the collar and other joints of her armor, none of which budged in the slightest. The message was not lost on her. " **Oh sweet oblivion you poor thing. This much of a delay just because you couldn't undress? Let me fix that…** " She snapped her fingers. " **There.** "

At her mystical command the armor fused to Deva's body popped loose, and off. For a whole five seconds the demonic knightess stood there, naked, completely without a reaction, until Deva bent over and retrieved her chestplate.

Nero called out, irate. "Wha, what the hell are you doing?"

She smirked, guessing the cause of the young man's 'distress.' " **Oh don't be a baby, she doesn't even have the parts to ogle. No nipples, no nethers, nothing.** " She giggled lightly. " **Of course I could just** ** _give_** **her those things, but I don't see a real point in that, yet.** "

Behind her, though the effects were plenty visible in front of her, the last light of the day flared before dimming away. She certainly _could_ have her knights fly her back to Fortuna, but it'd be the middle of the night. And that was atrocious. As she had semi-seriously told Nero, she needed her beauty sleep. And naturally, she was rather picky about her sleeping conditions. The worst part of it, especially to her, was that she was going to be wearing the SAME dress two days in a row! She could clean it with magic, obviously, but that was hardly the point.

She reached up and tapped the focusing gem on her staff twice, setting it alight. By that glow she noticed that Deva was 'redressing.' " **Oh no, no you don't. Partially my oversight or not it's still your fault I'm not sleeping in my bed tonight. So at the very least you are going to fill in for my pillow.** " She imperiously pointed at the base of a nearby tree. " **Sit down, and leave your chest plate off.** "

Nero made a noise, one she couldn't peg between disgust, arousal, or confusion. "You've got to be kidding me…"

She sat down, back to Deva's stomach, and smirked. " **You only think it's weird because you can't do it.** " With a wave of her hand she silently ordered the other demon knights to stand watch. " **Now Nero, stop being so concerned with what I'm doing and get some sleep. I don't think the Order will be willing to just answer any question you throw at them just for the asking. You'll have to beat it out of them, I'm sure.** "

In the glow of her staff, Nero made a pained face before scooting his back against a tree not too far from her. Eventually, after she put out the light on her staff, some words floated through the dark. "Ah, goodnight, I guess."

Mildly surprised, but equally pleased, she reciprocated. " **You too. Sleep well.** "

Before settling her head back into the pillowy softness of her own creation she conjured a blanket, mild though it was, and wrapped herself up. Thusly situated, she allowed her head to fall back with a light 'whump,' and let sleep quickly overtake her.

Forest:

Persephone felt herself wake up, however much she didn't like it, to the rhythm of a repetitive clicking sound. When her eyes cracked open she found that it was still dark, very much so in fact. Middle-of-the-night dark. She suppressed a groan at the thought. By the glow of her eyes though, she identified the source of her disturbance. Nero was sitting right where she'd last recalled him being, spinning the cylinder of his revolver, over and over again.

Suddenly touched with purple light, Nero looked towards her, paused for a second, and cringed. "Oh, damn, that woke you up."

She responded, trying and failing to keep a cranky note out of her voice. " **I'm a very light sleeper. Always have been.** " She forced herself to smile. " **Then again it might have been conditioned into me by my brother constantly trying to prank me. Which in all fairness I started.** "

Nero gave her a curious look. "That doesn't sound very 'ladylike' of you."

She shot the young knight a lop-sided smirk. " **And I'm sure you were a perfect saint when you were a teenager. Everyone has that phase sooner or later. I grew out of it, mostly.** "

She was not going to add out loud that her father had metaphorically spanked the both of them out of their prank war. Now, this was typically the point at which she would prompt a conversation partner to discuss their own childhood. But Nero probably wouldn't remember his, and prompting him to sift through his memories was a bad idea. So…

She ungracefully changed the topic. " **Anyways, is it really that hard for you to get comfortable? You don't have to worry about getting ambushed in your sleep, thanks to my guards.** " Feeling compelled to be coy, she continued. " **I figured a knight of the Order would be a touch more accustomed to living a little rough.** "

Nero gave her a wan, albeit somewhat lighter, glare. "The fact that your guards are demons might have something to do with it." The young man paused to look at said guards before continuing. "I figure you won't just drop this if I said I was afraid of the dark?"

Realizing, to her considerable delight, that Nero was joking she let out a light giggle and acted as if she hadn't caught the hint. " **Aw, poor you. If you had just said something I could have left you a night-light.** "

Nero rolled his eyes, but she saw the infinitesimal twitch of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She was growing on him, naturally. Just after being reunited Acheron had been more or less the same way, indifferent, towards her. She figured she must have charm to spare that shone through that thin veneer of her 'spoiled' status. Pranks aside, of course. He cared enough about her now that he'd waived that ill-fated bet over who could conquer Middle Earth the fastest. Not that she'd been banking on such an outcome, why would she? Nero's softening attitude was just another example of her exemplary charisma.

Smiling, her gaze drifted upwards to the starless, moonless sky. " **Then again, I suppose you do have the right to be antsy. The people you've been loyal to for most of your life turn out to be wantonly twisting demons to their own uses without regard for the people that get hurt in the process. That's a lot to take in, and you really haven't had the chance to decompress all of that.** "

There was a brief moment of silence, barring the insects and such, before Nero spoke again. "Wait, who are you and what have you done with Persephone?"

Her eyes snapped back to the young man. " **Don't give me that, I can be serious when the situation calls for it!** "

Nero simply nodded his head slowly. "Right, if you say so."

She paused, sullenly. " **You're not going to believe me no matter how much I insist.** "

In the glow of her eyes, Nero smiled smarmily. "Have you really given me a reason to?"

Ok, the boy had a point. But only because she had kept all of her serious thoughts internal to avoid angering the subject of those serious thoughts. Granted, she was very much so a frivolous, generally lackadaisical young lady, emphasis on 'lady,' but that didn't mean she lacked the capacity. How had Nero had a girlfriend again? Ugh. Then again, maybe she had just been being too friendly with him from the get? Nah, that was who she was most of the time.

A small 'hmph' came from her. " **Fine, I guess I'll just have to prove you wrong.** " She paused and looked to the black sky. " **Starting tomorrow, provided I get my rest. So you do us both the favor of nodding off so I can do the same.** "

Nero stowed his pistol and leaned back against his tree. "No promises."

She sighed. " **Best I can expect I suppose. Goodnight, and don't make me say that again.** "

She closed her eyes, and almost immediately Nero started whistling a seemingly nonsensical tune. She instantly shot the young man a dirty glare, and was only rewarded with a smart grin.

She mumbled under her breath. " **The nerve…** "

Forest:

Nero found himself pacing in the clearing, back and forth, doing his utmost to make a decision between waking Persephone up or leaving her be. He'd been up for at least two hours, wrestling with this question. Yes he'd feel bad waking the lady, as she insisted on being called. But the day was wearing on, and she was still snoozing.

He glanced up, eying a sun that was creeping towards midday. "Oh come on lady…"

To be perfectly fair, the title wasn't undeserved. Persephone did have both grace and poise to spare. Apart from the ability to level a giant swath of the landscape with a gesture and a few, er, personality quirks. He supposed that was a polite way to phrase it. And the voice, he could hardly forget that now. So far as he could tell, Persephone was only a few notes off from some kind of fairytale princess.

He looked towards the slumbering woman. "Yeah, complete with the whole 'carry me' thing."

For a few moments he just stood there and stared at Persephone's face, silently barking a 'wake the fuck up' mantra in the vain hope that it would work. Shortly though, he came under the intense feeling that he was being watched. He shifted his gaze slightly, working off of a gut hunch. Sure enough, it was Deva staring at him, no, _glaring_ at him. Coming from a mostly naked, though he was mightily trying to ignore that fact, demoness, it was actually fairly intimidating. That in and of itself bothered him. He could laugh off a giant snake demon that was perfectly capable, technically, of killing him. And yet he was more intimidated by a demoness sculpted to look like a sex toy, by another woman?

He answered the glare. "Well, _you_ wake her up."

Deva made no move to do any such thing. In fact, if glares translated directly into words he figured he would be hearing a rather prim 'my mistress will sleep however long she likes, and you're just going to have to deal with it.' Needless to say, despite his reservations, this annoyed him a bit.

His hand moved to the Blue Rose. "She's going to chew my ears off for this…"

He drew the revolver with a spinning flourish, pointing it skyward and squeezing off just one shot before holstering the gun in the same motion. Persephone said she was a light sleeper, and a gunshot was far louder than simply spinning the chamber. Deva immediately shot him a death-glare.

He was however, rewarded with the desired outcome. Persephone stirred, eyes blearily opening halfway before the lady let out a demure, dainty yawn and stretched her arms up over her head. A stray ray of sunlight caught the woman's lengthy silver hair, and momentarily blinded him.

Persephone languidly gave him an unimpressed look while rubbing the dregs of sleep from her eyes. " **Did you really need to do that? I was having a very nice dream, if you care to know.** "

He cringed internally, that guilt he had expected hitting him right on cue. "Yeah? Well, what was it about?"

The faintest flush colored Persephone's ivory skin before she broke their eye-contact. " **You interrupted it, so I'm not telling you.** " The woman stood smoothly. " **Now, for me to go bathe…** "

He felt his left eye start to twitch, and words just fell from his mouth. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Persephone responded with an imperious little sniff. " **I was camping,** ** _outside_** **. I am going to bathe, and you are going to wait for me.** "

He wanted to bark that he'd already been waiting for hours, but all that came from his throat was strangled, angry noise. Internally, he said to himself, 'yes, definitely a princess. Especially the _demanding_ part.' Said "princess" sidled off into the forest with nothing but a single wave to the demon knights. The four that had been guarding the clearing, plus Deva, formed up in a box around the woman before the whole lot vanished into the shade of the trees.

He stood there quietly for a long moment, fuming. Eventually he started muttering to himself. "Just turn around and leave. You can be at the Order's fortress before she even chooses where to wash…" He stood there, repeating himself for a few moments. But he didn't move. "Shit!"

1 Hour Later:

Nero sullenly swung his sword at the air, trying to vent his mounting frustrations on the innocent breeze. It wasn't helping, probably because the wind was indeed innocent of any wrongdoing. It wasn't like hitting Persephone would help either, not that he would, he was just trying to be at least slightly productive. He _would_ like to give the dawdling damsel a very big piece of his mind, but it really wouldn't help his case if he walked up on her naked.

He stopped swinging, arm fully extended, and slung his blade in the same motion. "You know what, hell with it. I'm going to give her that piece of my mind." He shrugged. "I don't need to see her to do that."

Justifying his course of action in this way he marched off at a half-run straight down the exact pseudo-path he had watched Persephone go down. He figured he'd hear Persephone long before he saw her, talking constantly like she did. Chattering on about every little whimsy that popped into her…

He did indeed hear Persephone before he saw her. He took one step around a corner and, like a thunderbolt from the sky, he heard singing. And he stopped dead in his tracks. In one corner of his mind he empirically recognized it as Persephone's voice, the rest of him was, well, transfixed was the best word for it. Although mesmerized, hypnotized, and bewitched would easily work too. Hell, he didn't even know what she was saying and he couldn't physically tear himself away.

Mesmerized or not, one particular sense of his was working just fine. His danger sense, and said sense warned him in time so he could avoid taking a very large lance straight through his torso. The song was automatically tuned out of his mind in response to the threat, but after only dodging a few swings, and inadvertently getting the demon knight to chop a tree down near the roots, a very different noise, a shriek, cut through his awareness.

Out of rote instinct he turned to the sound, saw about three seconds of something he absolutely should not have seen, before his world was swallowed by violet light.

Forest:

Persephone Killgore furiously leered at the unconscious, smoking body of Nero, on the verge of hyperventilating she was so entirely livid. He'd seen, _everything_! She'd dressed immediately, but the figurative damage was done.

One small corner of her brain tried to remind her that he'd only seen her lower half in profile, so the young man hadn't seen _that_ particular private area. As if that really made all that much of a difference. Nero had walked in on her bathing, just like she'd teased him about a while back. Of course, she'd meant it as an entirely fictional scenario. She had most certainly NOT wanted it to come to reality.

Unable to stop herself, or maintain her picture-of-composure poise, she hauled Nero up by the neck, with one hand. " **You don't get to sleep through this.** "

She hauled off and slapped her captive across the face, hard, particularly for her usual. Not that she went around slapping people. Rather, this one hit used far more of her physical strength than she typically showed. She wanted her image to be that of an enchanting sorceress-queen, with the power of the cosmos at her fingertips, not an up-jumped barbarian who ran around hitting things with ungainly chunks of metal. And while it pained her on some level to lose herself like this, in extremis. She had a perfectly valid excuse, even though she didn't really need one considering her parentage. Nero, of course, woke up immediately once she hit him. He was short a few teeth due to her blow but otherwise the man seemed lucid enough. She figured he'd grow them back, if he lived.

The young man immediately realized his current situation. "Perse- HURK"

Not at all in the mood for hasty apologies she tightened her grip on Nero's neck, using her free hand to emphasize her next words. " **You have exactly ONE chance to explain yourself. And if I don't like what I hear I will take it upon myself to erase your depraved mortality from existence itself. Do I make myself clear?** " She didn't wait for an answer. " **Why, of all things, did you follow me when I made it perfectly clear that I was bathing?** " She squeezed a little harder. " **Doesn't that imply the demand for privacy? Doesn't it?** "

After a few seconds she realized Nero was turning blue in the face, and he certainly wouldn't be able to speak in that case. Grudgingly, she let Nero go. But even before he'd hit the ground, choking and gasping for air, she aimed her fingers at him with more or less the same spell prepared that she'd used to level a twenty kilometer swath of the forest. She didn't care how athletic or agile Nero was, there was no chance he could dodge something like that at point-blank range.

Lungs still heaving due to her emotional state, she posed her query again. " **Well? What trite justification are you going to toss up first? 'I was just going for a stroll?"** She snarled. " **If you're not going to bother-** "

Nero coughed out a handful of words. "I was trying to tell you to hurry the hell up! It'd been over an hour!"

She paused. Yes, that did sound like something Nero would try to do. He was the type to get impatient, especially over what she considered her feminine prerogatives.

She voiced this thought, not moving her fingers. " **You do remember that I'm a girl, right? I'm allowed to take my time primping.** "

Nero's eyes blazed as he glared back at her. "… Over an hour…"

Silence fell as she mulled this over in her mind, neither of them looking away. She had to admit, it did seem that this was simply an accident, albeit one that was particularly embarrassing for her. And she hadn't figured Nero the type to peek to begin with, particularly because he _still_ refused to stare at her chest like literally _every_ other male non-relative she had crossed paths with. She grimaced and screwed her eyes shut momentarily. As much as she wanted to hurt Nero, a lot, over this, the young man was clean in this matter. And even though she was the daughter of the god of Evil, she couldn't just punish/murder the man just to make herself feel better.

Digits twitching from lingering rage, she dismissed her spell. " **I, urgh, I believe you.** " She jabbed a finger towards the kneeling knight. " **But you owe me, a LOT, over this. I'm being incredibly magnanimous right now, not blowing you away.** "

Nero slowly stood, rubbing at the purple welt on his neck in the shape of her hand. "Yeah, sure. I owe you loads for nearly throttling me to death." He coughed once. "Damn you're a lot stronger than you look."

She looked away, pouting and crossing her arms. " **Hmph, what did I tell you? Ladies don't like being complimented on how strong they are. Try again.** "

Nero made an exasperated noise. "Seriously?" She shot the knight a sudden, intense, venomous glare such that the young man nearly yelped. "Gah, ok!" Nero paused for a moment. "Ah, you have an amazing voice?"

She felt one corner of her mouth twitch slightly upwards, momentarily. " **Go on.** "

The young man was clearly struggling to word things, but he eventually managed. "Er, when I heard you singing before, ah, I couldn't help but stop and listen. I was, uh, transfixed?"

After a moment she looked back towards Nero, staring down her nose at the slightly shorter man. She rewarded the clumsy compliment with a half-smile. " **Better. Work on your delivery and you might actually get somewhere with me.** " She curtly gestured to the forest path ahead, the one that would lead them to the fortress of the Order of the Sword. " **Well, you wanted to get moving. Move along.** "

Nero hesitated, she couldn't tell if it was deliberate or confusion-related. "I thought it was 'ladies first."

She leaned forward and gave the man a very 'firm' tap to the forehead. " **Are you my escort or am I yours? You go first, genius.** "

The young knight waved his hands in front of him in surrender as he moved. "Ok, ok!"

She fell in behind, nudging him along with the top end of her staff. " **And no fantasizing or reminiscing. I'll be able to tell in an instant if you do.** "

Nero half-turned his head towards her. "I thought you forgave me!"

She imperiously replied. " **You're forgiven when I explicitly say you're forgiven. And you've got a** ** _long_** **way to go before that. So you'd better be on your absolute best behavior for the foreseeable future.** " After a few more steps she added one lest detail. " **And no more complaining about my beauty routines. It is a lady's prerogative to look her best, no matter how long that takes. Consider yourself lucky that you get to be around me to admire my handiwork.** "

Nero was very much wearing a 'what the hell have I gotten myself into' face now, and she found that rather cute. Almost cute enough to earn her forgiveness, emphasis on almost. Maybe he could treat her to a nice candlelit dinner when this demon incident was over…


	9. Comeuppance

Chapter 8: Comeuppance

Forest:

Persephone Killgore smiled to herself as she sauntered along in the wake of her escort, both the human and the demonic. Her attitude had cooled significantly since her morning, through repeated self-lecturing of 'it was an accident.' This shift in opinion was aided quite a lot by the fact that Nero had been, as per her borderline demand, quite accommodating. Nudging branches out of the way, kicking rocks out of the path; most anything convenient to her that the demon knights didn't do automatically. It was an impressive shift.

She commented aloud on this, voice clearly conveying that she was pleased. " **I'm surprised Nero. When you put the effort in you can actually be quite the gentleman.** "

Nero, for his part, looked decidedly displeased. But not one negative word had passed his lips since they'd started walking, so she figured Nero at least knew on some level that what he was doing and/or suffering through was deserved. And it wasn't as if she'd asked him to carry her again, though she'd considered it. She'd been a model of reason this whole day's trip. Not a single request that degraded or demeaned Nero in any way. She could think of several off the top of her head, but they were ridiculous in nature to the point she wouldn't consider doing them to anyone.

Feeling rather safe, considering the quality of her escort, her mind started wandering. Her eyes drifted across a small, brightly colored, red songbird. At this singular moment the bird was singing its heart out on a branch backlit by the afternoon sun. It was quite picturesque, and she figured she'd only see more moments like it if she cared to spend the time to look.

This thought prompted a question which she voiced. " **Nero, tell me, before all these demons showed up, did the people of Fortuna come out here often? I can only imagine such a large forest would seem like a perfect place to get away from it all for a little while.** "

Nero shot her a short glance over his shoulder before answering in near monotone. "Not really."

She waited about ten seconds for Nero to continue, but when he didn't she spoke up. " **And, why is that? Come on now Nero, short answers like that don't help me understand things much.** "

Nero gave her that same short look, albeit this time with a flash of something like chagrin mixed in. "Er, right. Well, most people just don't have the time. Worshiping Sparda is pretty much the entire identity of Fortuna. They live it, breathe it every hour of every day."

A light chuckle escaped her. " **My goodness, religion seems like such a pain when you put it like that.** " The wording of Nero's answer caught her attention. " **Only 'they' live and breathe Sparda?** "

Nero's answer was swift and blunt. "Faith isn't exactly my thing."

Satisfied, and not wanting to press Nero too far on his past and/or his reasons, she dropped the topic. That small matter past, silence fell between them again. As they were the only two humanoids in the little band capable of speaking, that left only the sounds of nature. But, on the matter of speaking…

She piped up again after about three minutes of silent pondering. " **Hey Nero…** "

The young knight paused his forward progress. "Eh, what?"

She gestured to the demoness marching in near lockstep with her. " **I'm still trying to decide what kind of voice I should give this lovely lady. Any opinions?** "

The look that crossed Nero's face, however brief, was 'are you fucking kidding me?' The young man did say something though. "I don't know, go with something prim and sanctimonious."

She frowned a bit at the 'sanctimonious' part, but responded nonetheless. " **So, otherwise you think I should have her act like a proper maid?** "

Nero looked away for a moment, obviously scowling, and turned back with a shrug. "Sure, let's go with that."

Her facial expression did not change. " **Is there something you don't like about Deva?** "

Nero answered swiftly. "Apart from the 'demon' thing, I get the feeling it's _her_ that doesn't like _me_. I'm just reciprocating."

She gave a dainty 'hmph.' " **Nero, haven't you ever heard of taking the moral high-road? I'm disappointed in you.** "

She was partially teasing the man. On the pertinent matter at hand, she did rather like the idea of 'maid' Deva. Not only did that rather fit how the demoness didn't seem to want to let her out of sight, but it also fit with how she planned to use the demoness outside of combat. Some of the dresses she loved absolutely required two people to put on in anything close to a timely manner, and why not let those extra hands belong to what was, so far, clearly her most dedicated servant? That, and it was very funny to her to imagine her enemies getting their heads partially exploded by a _maid_. She thought of it, put it into mental structure, and snapped her fingers. Considering that Deva was her creation that was all she had to do.

She cooed gently towards the demoness. " **Well Deva, do you have an issue with Nero?** "

Deva's wings twitched, flexing in and out as the demoness's hands folded over her groin. " _He deliberately woke you, mistress. It was incredibly disrespectful of him_."

She squealed with delight, internally. The voice was PERFECT. And the attitude, as long as never got turned around towards her, was equally as perfect. She'd have her own personal yes-girl, all the time. Maybe she could even have a singing partner…

Fighting valiantly to keep an impish grin off her face, she turned her head towards Nero. " **Well? The lady does have a point there.** " She paused for a beat, face cracking into a smile. " **That's your cue to apologize mister.** "

Nero gave her that 'are you fucking kidding me' look again. "No."

She smiled, rolling her eyes sidelong towards Deva. " **Let it go Deva. Some people just don't have common decency.** " She hustled forward three steps to close to whisper-range with Nero. " **I'm only teasing you, just to clarify.** "

Surprising her, Nero cracked a small smile. "I realize that. But you aren't getting any closer to making me believe that you have the capacity to be serious."

She shrugged helplessly. " **What do you want from me, in depth dissertations on the fragility of our mortal coil?** "

That drew a small laugh out of the young man. "Heh, ok, I'll let you know when I think it's an appropriate time to be serious, ok? You just keep being yourself till then."

Her smile stretched just a little wider. " **That's all? And here I thought you were trying to challenge me.** " She was about to say something else, but a sight out of the corner of her eye stopped her momentarily. " **Oh, would you look at that, I think we've arrived.** "

A grand stone causeway stretched out before the two of them, stark, glaringly white in its construction, and leading out to what looked to her like a giant white brick stood on its end in the middle of the water. It was the Order of the Sword's fortress. And while she could go on for days about how ugly the building itself was, she would at least give the Order one thing. The demon-meddling buffoons did at least know how to build for defense. Unless you could fly, the causeway was a fantastic obstacle. But, she could fly, technically, and that rather trivialized the matter.

She looked up at the distant structure for a moment and grinned before looking to Nero. " **You know what, I think I'm going to supersede you on this. I think now is a good time to prove my capacity.** " She brought up her left hand, letting violet lighting leap between her fingertips. " **All you want is the opportunity to interrogate the man in charge, right? No concern for the rabble that'll try to get in our way?** "

Nero shied back slightly from her hand. "Just, try not to kill them. They are still people."

She giggled lightly. " **Well, as long as you're asking then.** "

A low rumble drew her attention to the causeway. What appeared to be the human knights of the Order were charging towards them, swords raised high and a battle cry on the wind. White coats flowed in the breeze of their run, white swords flashed in the sun… It was too much white.

Nero grit his teeth. "Here comes the welcome party…"

The young man started to reach for his revolver, but she lightly took hold of his wrist with two fingers on her right hand. " **Now now, you just sit back and watch for the time being.** " She strut forward two steps before coyly flipping her hair as she shot Nero a glance over her shoulder. " **This, is my show.** " Her eyes turned to her prize demoness. " **Same goes for you Deva, no shooting till I tell you otherwise. I've got the world's most powerful stun gun in the palm of my hand, and she's just begging for a slice of the limelight.** " She looked back to the crowd of charging Order knights and smiled. " **You will learn to fear me.** "

She stuck out one hand and started indiscriminately spraying lighting in a cone in front of her. The, so far as she could tell, normal humans who ran right into the display were immediately arrested with spasms as they were blown off their feet. She didn't even have to aim, corralled as her enemy was by the very causeway that would otherwise be a good defense. All she had to do was walk, one hand held before her. And that's exactly what she did. The groans of agony from the knights she accidentally-on-purpose stepped on proved that she wasn't killing them, which would make Nero slightly happy. Although they all probably _wished_ they were dead.

Ahead, she noticed that the Order knights were stopping and kneeling to brace rifles, and she made a languid comment. " **Now that's just rude. What are they trying to do, ruin my dress?** " She half-turned her head to look behind her. " **Deva, you can start shooting now. You too Nero.** "

Deva gave an enthusiastic 'yes mistress' and plinked one of the knights in the cranium before she'd even finished talking. Nero took his time responding to her gentle order, but he did start shooting nonetheless. Given the different reports from each gun, and the subsequent fountain of blood from wherever one of the Order knights got shot, she could tell that Nero was trying to disable the Order knights. The young man was going for knee shots, shoulder hits, gut wounds, etc. Deva on the other hand, she seemed to exclusively aim for the head. In fact more than once her demoness shot the head off of a knight that Nero had already wounded. Maybe Deva did have something against Nero, apart from the 'he woke you up' objection. But, that wasn't a problem for the here and now.

As for her part of this assault, she stopped spraying electricity everywhere to her front and shifted to a more defensive spell. She created a one-way barrier in front of the same hand she had already been casting with and just kept walking, trying to look like she was exerting as little effort as possible. Such bravado usually worked to unnerve peons, and she didn't figure any of the ranking Order knights would sortie themselves until-

Nero shoved past her with a loud cry of 'look out!'

Out of the blue of the sky shot down something large, golden, and pointy. When Nero caught it in his demon arm she could see that it was an ornate, very large javelin. Tracing the thrown object back up, as Nero did when he threw it back, she could see that it had come from what at first glance looked to be some sort of descending angel. On second glance though, certain coloration contrasts brought doubt to that thought. The dark purple on the thing's stomach primarily. That and the facial construction convinced her that this was little more than a demon masquerading as an angel. Come to think of it, she didn't think angels even existed in this world. So she should have dismissed the idea out of hand.

Nero's return throw, given the distance, was easily dodged by the winged demon. Deva's indignant rifle shot was deflected by one of the demon's arms, an arm that was less an arm and more of a built-in shield. The figure alit on the causeway ahead and, to her significant surprise, changed into a human man in a flash of golden light. She had the faintest inkling that she'd seen and recognized that particular severe countenance and cut of hair before…

The new arrival leveled an accusatory finger at her escort. "Nero! You traitor! We sent you to that castle to kill that witch, not join forces with her!"

She indignantly barked at the senior knight. " **Sorceress. How many times am I going to have to correct you people?** "

She was rebuked with a withering glare. "Silence witch, this conversation is between Nero and myself."

Speaking of Nero, the young man was simply standing there, a pained expression on his face. She gathered that this demon/human was supposedly Nero's former, she would assume, commanding officer. But, Nero had made a clean break with ideas of loyalty to the Order once she'd shown him proof that it was the Order itself that was responsible for the demonic invasion, right? Why would he hesitate to leap for the jugular of a man who'd just attacked the both of them? Unless… oh no…

Nero spoke two words, and they set off about seventy different alarm bells in her head. "Credo, why…"

The other man high-handedly shouted at Nero. "I should ask the same of you! The moment I told you where to find that witch I could hardly get you to stand still long enough to give you the rest of your instructions. You were so dead set on avenging Kyrie, whom you claimed this witch killed!"

That did it. The look of confusion evaporated from Nero's face faster than a snowball in Hell as he slowly turned to look at her, rage etched into every line of his face.

She'd already started backing up, slowly putting her demon knights between Nero and herself. " **N, Now Nero, let's talk about this for a second. It was completely an-** "

The young knight cut her off with a bellowing cry. "YOU BITCH!"

From seemingly nowhere, Nero produced a long, curved scabbard, a katana. And as the young man drew it a disturbing, ghostly blue, transparent figure appeared slightly above Nero's shoulders. It was like an inverted shadow, mimicking Nero's movements as the demonic hybrid stalked towards her, both blades bared. Before she could say another word Nero fell upon her knights, and it was a slaughter close enough to what she had witnessed when her minions had attacked that lone demon knight in the Fortuna Castle labs. Her 'superb protectors' put up little more than token resistance as they were soundly cleaved in twain by one or two strikes from Nero and his phantom double.

She would have said something, tried to placate Nero with a truthful explanation, but a set of urgently grasping hands circled around her waist and hauled her off her feet up into the sky and away from the raging hybrid. A corner of her mind knew it was Deva, and appreciated the rescue, but the rest of her was justifiably focused on the very prominent threat to her front.

The incensed Nero leapt for her, blade flashing, but drew up short by a scant few centimeters. Once he touched back down he pointed both blades at her. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME? I HATE YOU! I-" Nero was cut off by Credo re-entering his 'angel' form and chucking another javelin into Nero's back.

Out of everything, her mind fixated on one line, one line that she repeated to herself, her voice faint in disbelief. " **He, hates me?** "

She didn't say another word for the entire flight back to Fortuna Castle.

Castle Fortuna: Library

Persephone Killgore silently lay on her back on the chaise lounge by the lit fireplace, vacantly staring up at the ceiling and letting out a long sigh every couple of minutes. The logical part of her brain kept telling her that this mood of hers was incredibly stupid, that she should be up and doing something, anything regarding damage-control for when the raging Nero inevitably stormed his way back here. That part of her mind though, was being soundly drowned out by her emotional majority hammering her with that one line, 'I hate you' over and over again.

It wasn't even as if she were unfamiliar with the concept of being hated. After all, she was very sure Eomer had hated her quite a lot after she forced him to murder his own men scant seconds after she'd enslaved his mind. But that was a given. Eomer had been a tool, a throwaway object for all intents and purposes. Nero, she'd opened up to him. Laughed with, or more often than not _at_ , him. Goodness she'd even sang for him of her own volition. She hadn't even done that for her father yet. She felt that they had had a connection, an understanding. And then the sheer rancorous venom with which he'd declared his hatred of her… it hurt. It hurt a lot. Yes she'd fiddled with his memories, but that had been primarily out of self-defense. He would have likely killed her at that point if she hadn't, could probably still do so given what she'd seen on the causeway even with her entire legion of knights. And all of this because of a complete accident…

She languidly rolled onto her side, turning her gaze towards her freshly voiced demoness. " **Deva, do you think I might perhaps be cursed?** "

The demoness's face remained emotionally inscrutable. " _Cursed?_ "

Not sure what kind of answer she'd expected she launched into a list of synonyms. " **Jinxed, cosmic plaything, fate's fool, the whipping girl, born under a bad sign, supremely unlucky…** "

She was probably being more than a little bit melodramatic, but she couldn't help it. At this moment in time 'rational thought' was a little whisper in the back of her head. With a loud sigh she rolled over completely, presenting her back to her demoness and staring off into space once more.

At some point, she had lost track of time, Deva's voice intruded upon her silent brooding. " _Mistress, are you unhappy?_ "

It took her a minute to answer. " **I think so, yes.** "

She received a one word follow-up. " _Why?_ "

That one word made her response take much, much longer. More so that she had to say aloud something she had been thinking for a little while now. " **I, think I liked him, a little, maybe.** " A tiny pout crept onto her lips. " **If he'd asked me out to dinner I wouldn't have said no…** "

It felt a little embarrassing to voice it, even though it was only herself and Deva present. And the latter would happily carry her secrets to the grave if it were required. It shouldn't have been though. Daughter of a god or not she was still human. She had every right to have feelings for whomever she pleased, and she could do far worse than a literal knight, even if he was a bit on the surly and visually effeminate side of things. And he had made absolutely every effort he could to not stare at her chest. That had earned him some serious points. Even after she had repeatedly told him she didn't mind. It was only half true, she was used to it and found it occasionally useful in manipulating people. It was still annoying.

Distantly, she was aware that Deva had moved to sit on the same piece of furniture that she currently occupied. The 'distantly' part of that was revoked rather suddenly when she felt a warm, dainty hand softly grip the top of her shoulder, accompanied by a quiet " _Mistress?_ "

She gave a start, scooting herself into a seated position and shifting to look at her demoness. She gave another when she saw that Deva had all but completely undressed herself, save the helmet/mask and the scrap of metal that covered the demoness's featureless groin. Momentarily, with her mind snapping back into full focus, she marveled at how out of it she must have been to not hear the clanking of the metal plates being discarded. Coming back to reality, her mind whirled with confusion at this turn of events.

She forced out a sentence, unconsciously scooting back a touch further. " **Deva, what, what are you doing?** "

The demoness mounted the plush furniture, ivory legs straddling, but not touching, her own nearly identically colored legs, and answered matter-of-factly. " _I am your dedicated servant Mistress. Anything within my power to aid you is my duty. You are unhappy, I wish to make you happy._ "

Within the confines of her own head she muttered a silent 'clearly.' The rest of her brain swirled, trying to process and make sense of this situation. Yes, she'd intentionally molded Deva's form into a freakishly well-endowed sex-doll body, but completely on a whim, for giggles. She'd never intended for, well, _this_ kind of behavior.

But then again, she thought back to when she'd first started tampering with the Order's demon knights, she had fundamentally programmed the lot of them for 'absolute loyalty,' and another term for that was 'devotion.' People in love were said to be 'devoted' to each other, so, really, in that sense this behavior sort of made sense. Although that really made her cringe at the thought that EVERY one of her summoned warriors might have these warped feelings. Then again, Deva was a special case. She'd never been out of sight since she'd been 'remodeled,' and frequently been in direct physical contact. Plus, she had put quite a lot of the personal touch into making Deva to begin with, directly sculpting every angle and curvature of the demoness.

Speaking of, she dragged her attention out of her head and back to the "affectionate" demon-lady in front of her. Deva had not moved so much as an inch, remaining perched perfectly still, patiently waiting for a 'yes' or 'no' order. Feeling rather, obligated, she did Deva the service of looking over the body the demoness was more or less offering to her on a silver plate. When she did, she was struck with a rather bizarre feeling, or, two to be exact. First, she noted a very, _very_ uncanny resemblance to a body she saw on a regular basis, in the mirror every morning.

She whispered this revelation to herself. " **By the void, I sculpted Deva to more or less be a clone of me. That, has got to be the absolute height of narcissism…** "

Come to think of it that led to a rather hypocritical bit of self-criticism. If she called Deva's physique a "freakishly well-endowed sex doll" body one might be very well justified in labeling her own body as such and challenging her own assertions that she was a "perfectly built" woman. Well, so what? She was fully aware that by normal standards she was an overblown wet-dream come to life. She embraced the body she had and chose to love it.

Which, led to her second thought. She felt, attracted to Deva, now that her knightess was presenting herself in this capacity. It simply hadn't crossed her mind before. And she might be a stranger to having a relationship, but she wasn't at all unfamiliar with the, intimate details. Her mother and father had given her a very long and involved "talk" as a secondary birthday present on the day she turned sixteen. She knew full well the mechanics of intimacy, and the suite of feelings that led up to it. She used the latter to her advantage all the time. It was a little disconcerting to be on the other end of it.

She heard a voice, but not its content, and made a very undignified " **Eh?** "

Deva had still not moved, but cocked her head to the side slightly. " _Mistress?_ "

Apparently her knightess did, in fact, have something of a limit to the bottomless well of patience implied by "absolute loyalty." Which actually made her feel mildly embarrassed by how long she must have been lost in her own head for the demoness to get even minutely annoyed.

She gathered enough composure to smile lightly. " **Deva, sweetie, I appreciate what you intend. But, I think you're going to have to learn that 'feeling good' and 'being happy' aren't always the same thing.** "

The demoness looked absolutely crushed. " _I… yes Mistress._ "

As Deva started to stand she reached out and gently took hold of one of the demon lady's hands. " **Now now, did you hear me say no?** "

It took about three seconds for Deva to process that statement before the demoness immediately complied, diving straight for her lips like a parched one would towards water. As for herself, she had a few thoughts run through her head. One, she sort of silently laughed and thought to herself, 'like mother, like daughter.' She knew full well that her mother kept a few girl-toys on the side to fool around with every once in a while. And if she knew, her father knew, and he clearly didn't care. Second, a thought of 'making out with another girl doesn't mean you aren't still a maiden.' She still fully intended her "true" first time to be with the man she fell in love with. And she wasn't going to compromise that for a moment of comfort. And third, she might as well go ahead and just make Deva fully sentient after this. She'd start to feel bad if this happened again, like she was taking advantage of someone who didn't know any better.

Those thoughts out of the way, she turned her attention to more immediate matters. It wasn't the most constructive use of her time, but damn it, she was going to have _something_ nice happen today. She would deal with the homicidal demon-slayer in the morning.

Author's Note: Ask and ye shall receive, reviewer whose name whom I forget at the time I'm writing this. To be honest I always intended the two to have a relationship, just not an intimate one. Oh well, this makes things just a bit more fun for everyone.


	10. Check

Chapter 9: Check

Castle Fortuna: Library

Persephone Killgore gazed at herself in a mirror, calmly primping and recomposing herself after the 'diversion' of the last few hours. As she straightened her hair she silently repeated 'still a virgin, still a virgin, still a virgin…' to herself, just out of redundancy. She figured she'd get over that in an hour or two. It was already background noise in her mind, and there wasn't much she had to justify. Light petting, mostly.

Attention wandering, she noticed a minor issue and voiced it. " **Deva, you lummocks, you tore my bra.** "

The responding voice was unfocused. " _I'm… sorry?_ "

She'd already granted the demoness sentience. So Deva was having the first independent thoughts of her, what, nearly week-long life? She figured that was a lot to process at once, and she would be more than happy to help the knightess through it. She did feel better, and on an emotional level as opposed to a physical one.

She conjured a brush and started gently running it though her hair. " **So, any amazing realizations in your first hour of independent thought?** "

The broken response took about a minute. " _I… I…_ "

She smirked into the mirror. " **Take your time sweetie. No point rushing, I can manage on my own for a little while you piece your mind together.** " She popped open her makeup kit and started touching up. " **Besides, I really don't think Nero will have had the time to race back through that forest, even with the swath I blasted through it. Remember how lost he was when we found him? Angry as he is I'm sure he'll take a wrong turn, or twenty.** "

No coherent reply was forthcoming from Deva, but that was ok. She was mostly talking to herself at this point anyway. And back to the topic of her enraged maybe-crush, she figured she sort of had a plan worked out. But, she'd need a few guns, and some disposable shields. She would go and collect those in a moment.

She stood, paused, tweaked an out-of-place hair, and telekinetically collected her staff. " **I'll be about, Deva, you come to me when you collect yourself.** " She opened the door to her library and made a show of looking to the blind spot just to the left outside. " **See? I'm being careful. So you can take your time.** "

She was making a big deal out of this for two reasons. One, she was trying to be courteous to her most loyal servant. Two, she was trying to shake her recent trend of getting bailed out of compromising encounters by said loyal servant. The scarecrow from days ago had just been an idiotic oversight. And the botched murder of that demonic plant-thing. And getting dragged off into the sky out of reach of Nero's swinging blade. The latter she had a fair excuse for. Or at least she thought so. Meeting one of, what, two people that could jumpstart Nero recovering his memories, one of whom was dead beneath a giant stone sword. Maybe that Credo was dead now too. Nero didn't seem the type to just let someone who tried to kill him walk, or fly in this case, away alive. He certainly hadn't been about to extend her that courtesy.

She paused by one of the many windows in the corridor to gaze outside. A light snow was falling, each flake reflecting the gleam of morning like a thousand diamonds, or a thousand tears. She took a long moment to admire the scenery, even if the pragmatic thing to do would be to immediately set the weather to a howling blizzard to confound and chill to the bone anyone, particularly Nero, who tried coming after her in this bastion. The rising sun painted the peaks and vales in the distance with such a soft light… maybe she should take up painting? This kind of diorama made her think of preserving it to view later.

A small sniff escaped her. " **Really now, me, you don't have anything more important to consider? Between raging demonic hybrids and idiotic-evil zealots out to kill you, and you stop to think about taking up painting?** " She chuckled lightly. " **The nerve of me.** "

Whimsy dealt with, or at least her current one, she snapped her fingers and altered the weather. The sunrise blurred, and was then lost behind a raging hurricane of flying snow. The wind roared, shaking the window before her. Anyone outside for at least five square kilometers would be stumbling through the snow barely able to see a hand directly in front of their face. An effective deterrent if ever she knew one.

She made a show of 'dusting off' her hands. " **Well, one issue set aside. Now for those guns and disposable shields…** "

As she said the last word, a loud, yet muffled, blast sounded off in the distance. A small tremor shook the stone beneath her feet, setting off a pang of dread inside her. Nero couldn't be here already, could he? No, not unless he'd somehow discovered the power of flight.

She started moving towards the source of the sound, morosely murmuring to herself as she walked. " **Then again, I had no idea he could summon a spectral double to dual-wield blades either. Flying seems rather mundane in comparison.** "

And if the demonic young man was indeed here, then the blast no doubt signaled that he was tearing through her knights like a knife through tissue-paper. He'd done so on the bridge with no apparent effort, and it would be foolish of her to assume now would be any different. She'd have to step into the fray personally, a notion she did not particularly relish. And not just for the reason that she maybe liked the brash idiot. Cut her head off and she'd die just like anyone else, something Nero would doubtlessly not hesitate to do in his currently incensed state.

She sped up, teleporting through her little indoor-windows towards the courtyard with the Hell Gate. It was both where the sound had come from, she would guess, and the thing she needed to keep intact at all costs.

She paused. " **Ok, no. At 'nearly any' cost. My life isn't worth protecting a slab of rock, no matter how useful it is. I can always find another one, maybe. And if not I can just make one, I think.** " She shook her head once. " **Not the time for this…** "

She paused once more, took a deep breath, and kicked the door open. The scene to greet her was at once exactly as expected, and not. For while the interloper was indeed tearing through her knights with absolutely no effort, they were laughing and taunting her borderline helpless knights with every second breath. It was the man in the red coat, from the opera house at the start of this whole twisted tale. What had she heard his name was…? She couldn't remember at this particular moment. She _did_ remember that he had easily seemed a match for Nero, so this performance wasn't too much of a surprise. Still, she was rather irritated, borderline upset, that she now had _another_ problem person to deal with on top of all the others.

She brought her right hand up, turned it over, and dropped it, palm down. " **Fun's over, showboat.** "

The thunderbolt from the sky had about the diameter of a large pond, and handily enveloped the interloper in crackling violet lighting. It also collectively disintegrated about ten of her lance knights, but they were doomed regardless of who 'killed' them in this little encounter. She didn't see any of her gun-demonesses, so either mister red-coat had already killed them all, a rather infuriating thought, or the lot of them had the modicum of self-preservation instinct necessary to decide against attacking something they couldn't hope to hit. She had tweaked them significantly compared to the almost-stock lance demons, so it wasn't unreasonable.

She called into the smoke thrown up by the lighting strike. " **Cry out if you're still alive. I'd like to know where to drop the next bolt.** "

There was no cry, no groan, no immediate sound whatsoever. Silence, save the howling wind, reigned till the smoke cleared. The white-haired man was standing in the small crater, large claymore idly slung over one shoulder, with nary a mark to show for being hit with a bolt that could level a building. In fact he was grinning, wearing a lopsided, borderline bemused smirk as if everything around him were the funniest thing in the world. She found that smirk quite vexing.

The man casually leaned forward, using his sword as a prop, and rested one elbow on it. "Well, the witch of Fortuna. How bout that?" His eyes very obviously gave her body a once over, and he let out a shrill wolf-whistle. "Stories don't do you justice at all."

Her expression dropped into a flat glare. Murder all of her demon knights? Fine, they were replaceable in a day or two. Leer at her? Fine, that happened _all_ the time. Show up when she was having a mood? Whatever, she was a lady and had the proper patience to maintain her image. Call her a _witch_ , AGAIN?

She vocalized her _exact_ thoughts on his quip. " **Screw you.** "

She brought her hand up and hurled another blast of magic, imitating her opening attack in every detail except tilting it ninety degrees. The bolt blew through the air and carved out a huge chunk of the courtyard wall, but the man in the red coat vaulted out of the way with seemingly nanometers to spare and ended his evade about six meters away, assuming the same pose and the same grin.

He spoke again. "Come on, that all you got?"

This cavalier, devil-may-care attitude struck a nerve of hers. It reminded her exceedingly of her brother, and that made her angry. It made her angry that red-coat had the sheer gall to mock her. It made her VERY angry that so far his attitude seemed objectively justified.

She waved a strong, bulletproof barrier into existence around her, set herself to levitating, and sent the intruder a glare that could freeze helium. " **Just to make it clear, you asked for this. Remember that when you're screaming.** "

Completely unfazed, the man kept grinning. "Looking forward to it."

Not seeing any point in pulling punches, figuratively speaking anyway, she led with a series of near-maximum power magical blasts, across the entire elemental spectrum. Flames erupted from bare stone, the same stone then animated to pancake the interloper between it. Ice coated the floor, rendering the entire courtyard hazardous terrain, before bursting up as cold spears to impale. The sky above opened up, fundamentally raining lightning in such volume it might as well have been rain. And she levitated through this mystic maelstrom, guiding it like a masterful composer would a symphony.

And it amounted to exactly jack squat. No matter what she did, no matter how much magic she drowned the area in, she just couldn't seem to hit the increasingly aggravating thorn in her side. She came close, for sure, but she was starting to feel that that was more by design than happenstance. This way and that, her target danced among the deadly spells like he were dodging harmless water balloons thrown by children. Even when she felt borderline certain she'd cornered the wretch, he'd seemed to just blink out of existence for just long enough to skate away without a scratch. She was doing a fantastic job of wrecking the courtyard, but that was about it. Cocky bastard hadn't even tried to fight back yet.

She commented on this, trying to goad her target into mucking up one of his movements. " **What's wrong, too busy running away to actually fight?** "

In exactly the same light, carefree tone he'd been using the entire time, the man answered while performing a hand spring around one of her lightning bolts. "Nah, just enjoying the nice lightshow. Gotta milk what entertainment you can."

Her insult backfiring, she grit her teeth so as to not scream aloud her frustration. " **You…** " Her quarry suddenly vanished from her sight. " **Wha… Where did he…?** "

With the same speed, the man in the red coat blinked into sight not a meter in front of her, mid-air, holding a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun. "I'd love to keep this up, but I'm kind of on a timetable. Gotta cut this dance short."

The gun fired, and the buckshot had the same relative impact as a freight train slamming into a single pane of glass. The pellets stopped, sure, but her barrier shattered all the same. In a small measure of good fortune on her part, that shot had been both barrels, so she had the time to teleport herself out of the way, clear across the courtyard, in the half-second it took for the man in red to toss the spent shells. She immediately rebuilt her barrier, with five times the power behind it.

The man slowly turned about after landing in the ground, still grinning, and looked to her with arms spread wide. "What's the matter, too busy running away to fight back?"

She'd been angry before, and she still was. But, now she was afraid. She felt that, perhaps, she'd bitten off more than she could chew with this individual. Breaking her barrier in a single blast? Dodging literally _everything_ she threw at him with not a single shred of apparent effort? It was almost like she'd picked a fight with her own father. The cold hand of doubt started tightening around her heart.

The intruder started slowly walking towards her, stowing the gun in favor of unslinging the large claymore from his back. "Nothing personal. Then again, demon, so I guess it kind of is."

For a split second she considered very vocally protesting the label of 'demon,' as it just might get her a momentary reprieve, but, probably not. She was probably lumped together with the Order of the Sword in this man's mind. Just another power-hungry despot looking to use demons to further their agenda. Which, objectively, was completely true. She wouldn't go so far as to agree with the 'despot' part, primarily because she hadn't actually ruled anything yet as the chief authority. And, back to the 'demon' thing, she didn't exactly look entirely human. So it'd take a bit of careful convincing, which might have gone much better if she hadn't attacked on sight.

The man in red lunged forward, just shy of flight speed. She held her position, deciding on a split second to gamble on the strength of her barrier to maybe tag this man with at least _something_. An intense burst of flame leapt from her outstretched hand, looking for all the world guaranteed to connect. But, true to form so far, her attacker somehow twisted up and around the flame to be even closer.

The man in red drew his blade back, primed for a thrust. "Jackpot!"

The point of the blade rammed against her barrier, hesitated for about one second, and then broke through. She closed her eyes and braced herself for imminent pain, but was instead startled by a loud rapport and a slick, wet sound of impact.

She opened her eyes, and to her right saw the man in red prone on the ground, blood oozing from his head. In spite of her moment of fear, all she could do at this was groan aloud.

She sluggishly turned her head towards the origin of the bullet, and naturally saw Deva there. " **Ugh, not again…** " She shook her head once. " **But, all the same, thank you.** "

The demoness stood from the ramparts of the courtyard, the minimal section that hadn't been magically blown up, and glided down into the courtyard next to her. " _It is my pleasure, Mistress._ "

She let out a long sigh of relief. Things had been looking rather grim there for a second…

A loud groan pierced the quiet. "Agh, damn…"

Her blood became ice. " **No, you have GOT to be kidding me…** "

The man in red slowly got to his feet, rubbing at the spot where a bullet had gone through his head as if massaging a simple bump. "Wow, and here I thought I'd taken all of those damn things out." Turing towards the both of them, fresh blood still painting the side of his face, he grinned confidently. "Guess I'd better fix that."

Neither she nor Deva did anything, so flummoxed she imagined they both were by this man's impossible immortality. The demoness did still did nothing when red-coat blinked out of sight and, for all apparent purposes, teleported directly behind her newly sentient friend. But she noticed. She'd been dealing with that aggravating talent for the last five or so minutes. And, bereft of any other methods, she did the only thing to spring into her mind at the time. She'd try to intercept the blade with raw strength. Maybe she could do one of those 'blade catches' her father pulled off so effortlessly-

A loud 'shunk' sound met her ears.

Stunned, not feeling a thing, her gaze drifted down at a molasses pace. What she saw took a very long time to register. She'd been impaled, her hands a full ten centimeters too far away to even touch the sword that had turned her into a living shish-kebab. That was when the pain hit, the agonizing, burning pain unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her gaze locked in on the wound, tuning out both the removal of the sword and of her physical orientation shifting abruptly to sideways. Dark, nearly black blood oozed through the ivory hands that had automatically clapped against the cavity, dribbling down, pulled by gravity, and pooling on the cold stone of the courtyard. At the back of her mind she understood that she wasn't going to die from just this one blow, but that made no difference to her senses. A choked sob in her own voice registered, but as if produced by someone else.

Eventually, some unknown time later, possibly even seconds, her suffering mind noted a voice. "Ok then, never seen a demon jump in front of a blade to protect another demon…"

She scraped together the wherewithal to respond, ladylike poise and dignity be damned. " **Because… I'm not… a demon… you… asshole!** "

Someone, more than likely Deva, helped her into a seated position. So situated she could see the man in red, looking rather significantly abashed. "Yeah, figured that part out already."

Still angry, and in pain, her tone did not change. " **Before or** ** _after_** **you stabbed me?** "

Red-coat matter-of-factly answered. "After." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Dropping a thunderbolt on me wasn't that much of a first impression."

She spat back. " **For all the good that did me. Neither was slaughtering all of my guards.** "

All she managed to elicit was another shrug and a one-note snicker. Fair is fair though, though it took a LOT of willpower to convince herself of this, he could have killed her with a single additional motion. So at least for that she could at least try to be civil, not that it was going to come easy. Slowly, she climbed to her feet, letting out a completely undignified groan as the hole in her abdomen finally closed and the pain went away.

Making an extreme effort to compose herself, and bodily preventing Deva from protectively interposing herself between red-coat and her, she reasserted her dignity. " **Ok then, let's try and start this over. Would you mind explaining why you crashed on in here and started slaughtering my guards?** "

The man bluntly jabbed a thumb at the stone slab reaching into the sky behind him. "Hell Gate, stopping demonic invasions, typical hero stuff."

A tinge of her lingering ire leaked through. " **I'll have you know this Gate is perfectly under control.** "

Another infuriatingly cocky smirk. "Yeah? And what exactly did you intend to do with your little private army?"

Logic called, it was her turn to be embarrassed. " **Er, take over Fortuna…** " She swiftly raised a counter-point. " **But you can hardly say I'd be a worse choice than the Order. They started this whole mess, and I'm just cleaning it up, in my own way.** "

Red-coat didn't seem convinced. "Sure. But, all the same, I don't really like the idea of someone running around using demons to rule anyone. Ya know?"

She barked back, slightly losing her poise. " **And that's your call to make? Who exactly do you think you are?** "

The man looked at her for about two seconds with a slightly amused look to him. "You don't know?" He laughed for another two seconds. "Well damn, I never get to introduce myself!" With a grandiose flourish and a melodramatic bow the man in red bent at the waist. "Dante Sparda, demon hunter for hire."

For a long moment the name had no significance to her at all, and that only made her angrier that someone so unknown had so thoroughly trounced her. But then, all at once, the dots connected in her head.

On the heels of the revelation she fought to not shout, and only partially succeeded. " **Wha, you, THE Dante Sparda that killed the demon emperor Mundas?** " Her true thoughts on her lapse in awareness slipped out unbidden. " **I, honestly thought that was just an overblown myth…** "

She felt colossally stupid for not even considering the possibility that the legend was true. But, on the other hand she didn't feel nearly as bad about figuratively getting her behind handed to her on a silver plate. Dante could probably give her father a run for his money, heck, maybe even qualify as a worthy match. She was, out of her league on this one. And, she was going to do her best to accept that with a measure of grace and composure. The demon hunter's attitude was not going to make that easy.

Dante started sauntering towards the Hell Gate stretching his arms over his head. "Well, that out of that way…"

Alarm went through her head, and even though she knew full well she couldn't hope to stop the demon hunter with brute force, she had to at least try to swing this. " **Wait, wait, do you really have to destroy this?** "

The man paused, slowly turning around with a bewildered look to him. "Ah, yeah? That's kind of why I'm here."

Her brain was going kilometers per hour, trying to phrase this in a logical way that would sway the demon hunter's opinion. " **And, you said that you had a problem with me, eh, people using demons to rule over other people.** " She held up her hands, not even feigning helplessness. " **You just wiped out my entire little private army without effort. If it's so trivial for you to do something about it, why is it a big deal?** "

Dante raised one hand to scratch the back of his head. "Ah…" About five seconds later the demon hunter finished the thought. "Look, lady, I really don't want to have to come back here."

It clicked in her head, 'yes! He's lazy! Go with that!' And she slid into her most persuasive tone of voice. " **Then you won't have to. You know you can put a stop to me if I, stray. And I know full well you can…** " All the same, she struggled a little to admit this. " **… kill me without even trying. I'm not stupid. I'm not going to tempt fate.** "

She put on her most winning, earnest smile. She wasn't even lying, not in the slightest. Taking over this world was a wash at this point, sure. But other worlds, she could really get somewhere with a limitless army of flying demon knights produced somewhere other than where they were deployed. It became attrition at that point, resistance vs infinity. Barring other individuals like Dante, that was a guaranteed win. She would just have to endure being the single 'unproven' conqueror in the family for a little while longer.

Dante stowed his sword with a long sigh. "Alright. As long as you stick to what you say…"

She snatched one of the demon hunter's gloved hands with both of hers and shook it as vigorously as she could without making her chest flop about. " **Much obliged, thank you very much, I won't make you regret this!** "

She had to make sure the man didn't think too much about this, lest his job details start to influence his judgement instead of his personal proclivities. He might have even felt a bit of guilt over impaling her, when she was in fact human, and she would certainly take that edge if she could. Pride wasn't a thing at this point.

There was a crash, echoing the one she'd made when she'd kicked the door to the courtyard open. "Dante, what the hell is taking-" There was a pause and a loud intake of breath. "You!"

She started to turn towards the new, female, voice. But before she'd even gotten half-way round there was another loud gunshot, courtesy of Deva, and another loud, wet sound of someone's head getting ventilated. To her rear, Dante let out a loud, exasperated sigh. And to her front, over at the door, there was a blonde woman's body supine on the stonework with a large pool of blood rapidly forming around it.

She spoke up, rather justifiably confused. " **Was that really necessary?** "

Deva's aim didn't shift so much as a centimeter. " _She pointed a gun at you._ "

Dante slid around her, languidly sidling over to the body. "Come on Trish, again? You losing your edge?"

The name 'Trish' sparked her memory, and a disbelieving comment at a very low volume. " **Seriously, can no one around here stay dead?** "

Sure enough, 'Trish' started getting back up, groaning and clutching at her head. She'd feel more concerned, if she hadn't dealt with the woman by herself a while back. That said, it probably wouldn't be the smartest thing to bring that up right now.

She smiled again, waving her right hand in a friendly manner. " **Well hey there, long time?** "

Trish shot her a withering glare. "You dropped a glacier on me."

So much for 'not bringing it up.'

She let out a high-pitched, hoity-toity laugh. " **Oh, don't be absurd! Glaciers are much, much larger.** " She paused for effect. " **And you're alive. How is this a problem?** "

The enraged look did not abate, but Dante put one hand on the blonde's shoulder and started slowly dragging Trish away. "Come on Trish, we're leaving. Giant demon to kill, gotta save the kid. You know the plan."

She paused, then somewhat automatically stepped forward. " **Wait, 'the kid?** "

The demon hunter stopped long enough to look over his shoulder at her. "The kid from the opera house, Nero. The Order stuck him in their giant demon statue to wake it up. Why?"

She asked herself that, right after the impulsive thought of 'Nero's in trouble?' Alongside other questions like 'how the heck did they catch him,' 'how are they keeping him there,' but the 'why do you care' bit was the most obtuse of the lot. But, then again, did she really need to think all that long on it? She'd figured that answer out earlier. She liked him, and she wanted to see where things could go. Maybe, maybe saving his life would help fix the 'you brainwashed me' problem?

She started marching towards both Dante and Trish, snatching her staff with her left hand. " **I'm going with you. Don't argue.** "

The princess was going to save her boyfriend, or would-be boyfriend. Whichever.


	11. Deserving

Chapter 10: Deserving

Fortuna Outskirts:

Persephone Killgore marched along, heels clicking against the stone in the wake of her, currently, three escorts. One, her friend/servant Deva, two, the demon hunter Dante, and third, a very irate Trish that was shooting her dirty glares every second step. She would feel a little more tense about that, if she weren't rather distracted by the incredibly irrational thought of 'Nero is in trouble!' Given the context she'd been given, "used to wake up giant demon statue," she had a whole slew of likely nonsensical depictions of what Nero was being put through. Admittedly she had no real concept of what that mess entailed, but that just sort of made things worse.

In the real world, a voice clearly addressed her, but, given her mental occupation, she failed to grasp the meaning. " **Beg pardon? I didn't catch that.** "

The voice, Trish's, presumably repeated itself. "I said, what kind of crap did you pull to get Dante to agree with you on the Hell Gate?"

She glanced ahead, noting that Dante melodramatically rolled his head before moving a greater distance away from the both of them, and took the opportunity to smile sweetly. " **Nothing particular. I just asked nicely. Why?** "

The blonde gave her a nasty glare. "I have a hard time buying that."

Enjoying, and slightly grateful for, the distraction, she responded. " **And, why is that? You've probably known him for a lot longer than I have. You know what buttons I could have pressed, if any.** " She smiled a little more. " **I suppose you, what, think I just batted my eyelashes and leaned forward? Do you think I have no shame?** "

That was a bit of an exaggeration. She would dance around on a stripper pole wearing fabric amounting to the coverage of a napkin if it kept her alive, and she was absolutely, completely UN-ashamed of that internal thought. Not that she would ever suggest that out loud, she was a lady, after all.

She continued. " **Besides, I hardly think** _ **you**_ **of all women has the right to accuse me of trying to ply my looks to get an edge. What with your finest of intimate apparel on display.** " She grinned cheekily. " **A skin-tight corset and leather pants? Are you** _ **that**_ **desperate for attention?** " Trish took a step towards her, and she raised a hand. " **Easy there, I realize that otherwise mortal wounds seem like more of an inconvenience to you at best, but they surely can't feel good. And I'm equally as certain that Deva would be more than happy to put a slug in your head if you openly threaten me again.** "

The blonde looked like she was going to say something more, but Dante chimed in from up ahead. "Leave it alone Trish, not worth it."

The other woman made a sound partway between a groan and a hiss, but that was the apparent end of it. Although, if she wanted to keep her mind off of Nero and whatever asinine situation he was snared in, she could certainly manage to pass the transit time, and amuse herself in the process.

She piped up again, broaching a prior topic. " **But really, I do mean it, that outfit doesn't suit you at all.** " She pressed right ahead before Trish could irately bark at her again. " **It's not just trashy, it's not flattering at all.** "

The other woman's face, mouth still open silently, drifted into 'confused' instead of outright angry. "What are you-"

She took a sidelong step closer as they kept walking, pointedly, and rather brashly, tugging once on Trish's corset. " **I mean, starting with this for one. You're showing far too much skin. Have you never heard the term 'less is more?' You need to hint at your assets, not leave them bouncing in the breeze.** "

That got a reaction. "Fat lot of 'hinting' you were doing when we fought before!"

She smirked smugly. " **Need I remind you I was alone? Well, till you so rudely intruded anyway. A lady is entitled to dress comfortably in the privacy of her own dwelling. But back to you…** "

Trish's dialogue steadily grew more and more defensive as she verbally needled the blonde's fashion sense, suggesting undeniably more stylish choices. Even when Trish brought up the inevitable "I dress for combat, not glamor" argument, she made quite sure to point out that a _good_ fashionista didn't need to choose one or the other. Doubly amusing, was how Dante kept casting a glance over his shoulder at the "bickering" two of them, a titillated smirk absolutely carved into his face. Maybe he fancied this demon woman, who knew? Also, who cared? Neither here nor there, she had bigger problems. She could smell sulfur and brimstone in the air, which gave her a really big hint that this trip was nearly over.

She held a dainty finger up in front of Trish. " **Hold that thought, however wrong you are. We can pick this up in a minute.** " She glanced about and confirmed the scattered scraps of mining equipment, a sign that they had almost reached the site of her kerfuffle with that giant, flaming centaur/dog. " **I trust the both of you realize there's another Hell Gate just ahead, right?** "

Dante answered, ever present lilt to his voice. "I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't. Why? Does the princess want to sit this one out?"

She would assume that by "Princess" he was teasing her. She also didn't care. Chiefly because, one, it was an accurate title. Two, she figured she had enough of a grasp on Dante's character to know he meant no true offense by it.

She responded. " **The opposite actually. I want to get this inevitable fight out of the way as quickly as possible.** _ **You**_ **are going to showboat, and that takes up time I don't think Nero has to spare.** " She drew herself up a little, " **Besides, I just happen to have already fought a giant demon from this very Gate. And, if it happens to be the same one, I know exactly how to kill it again.** "

This prompted a snide remark from Trish. "You killed a greater demon? And how'd you manage that?"

She smiled sweetly. " **I threw lighting at it till it died, more or less, though leaning towards** _ **more**_ **.** "

Dante chuckled softly. "I can buy that. And hey, free show. I'm not gonna complain." True to those words, the moment their trio stepped outside Dante sidestepped, kicked his boots up on a conveniently placed rock, and crossed his arms behind his head. "Have at it princess, fireworks galore."

She moved forward, throwing a light wave behind her. " **Always happy to entertain.** " She gestured with the same hand. " **Deva, you go and perch up on the cliff there. I'll let you know if I need you.** "

She supposed there was merit to simply charging up a huge spell and demolishing the Hell Gate without bothering with the demon at all. But, this was her ego getting the better of her. As much as she wanted to spring Nero from whatever predicament he was in, she wasn't under the impression that he was in _life-threatening_ trouble.

She paused, frozen for a second with a finger to her lower lip. " **Gosh, I'm really, really fickle sometimes… One second I want to drop everything to save him, the next I'm 'oh he'll be fine.** " She felt her face start to flush. " **Aaah, I'm going to be a horrible girlfriend!** "

Her teeth bit down on the finger at her lips as her mind whirled. Not up till now had she even considered _her_ half of the equation. Spoiled she might have been, she didn't think she was nearly narcissistic enough to _force_ someone to be her significant other. And she had just enough self-awareness to realize that some people might be put off by her, entitled attitude? Oh, and this was even assuming the young man would even be open to the idea in the first place. She had still indirectly, not-on-purpose killed his prior girlfriend. Going out of her way, and she at least assumed Nero would be bright enough to realize that, to rescue him might not be enough…

A warm, dry wind blew into her, and she drew her gaze up to see the Hell Gate glowing red. " **And of course, now we have to do this.** "

Erupting with a great gout of flames, none other than the exact same demon flew out and crashed down into the empty basin with her. Only, this time it was looking away from her as it landed. So, this could actually turn out pretty funny… She started charging a spell.

The demon, Berial if she recalled correctly, spoke aloud as it stomped towards the far end of the basin. " _Ah, finally. With my strength restored the human realm will bow before me_."

She grinned, spell at the ready, before whistling aloud. " **Hellooo! Remember me?** "

The demon had just enough time to about face and bellow 'you' before she set off her spell. Said spell, because cliché, was an enormous spire of ice bursting from the earth directly under the centaur-like body of the beast. She didn't care if it actually hurt the demon or not, all she wanted immediately was to get the bloody thing in the air.

Her grin widened. " **If not, you're certainly going to remember this.** "

Just as the spire stopped pushing the demon up, in that brief moment of complete hang-time, she unleashed hell. It was like when she had tried to hit Dante, only in this instance the complete opposite happened. There was no extraneous destruction, every single little spell hit. Lighting, ice, absolutely everything she could throw at the damn thing except for the obvious thing to not, fire. And far be of her to feel any pity for the demon, but the poor thing was utterly helpless. Getting thrown hither and thither, back and forth while unable to do a single thing about it. Because, all while hurting the demon as much as she could, she spent just as much of her attention on keeping it airborne. Doomed from the outset really.

She spoke, mostly to herself and under her breath, as she tormented the demon. " **And this, this is why you do not underestimate me, ever, if you value your life.** " She added at an even lower volume. " **Unless you're some kind of god-slaying monster… Oh, how am I ever going to live that down?** " Her gaze drifted back up to the suffering demon. " **Speaking of, time bring** _ **you**_ **down.** "

She flipped the direction of her 'pushing' spells and hastened the fiery, screaming mass earthward. And with no amount of ceremony whatsoever Berial collided with the ground nose-first before blowing apart in a giant swath of flames. It was, rather anticlimactic. And to think, this thing had given her a touch of a hassle before. Just goes to show the power of surprise, she supposed.

She paused, noting something odd. " **Wait…** "

Then it hit her. The demon had just broken apart into flames last time she 'killed' it. It had just floated back into the Hell Gate and recuperated, leading to her pummeling of it just now. Bloody thing was probably trying to-

She tracked the sluggish streams of flame. " **Not again you don't.** "

She abandoned all pretense of delicacy and fired off the same spell she'd used to clear a swath of the forest a little while ago. Aiming right for the center of the drifting flames, coincidentally smack dab in the center of the Hell Gate, she unleashed the arcane with none of the ceremony from before. She wasn't trying to be dramatic, she wasn't trying to be showy, she just wanted Berial to stay dead.

The glorious burst of light leapt forth, and there were two voices that loudly cried out. "SHIT!"

She paused, mildly abashed. " **Oh, right, Dante and Trish were over there. I actually might have killed them with that.** " She paused to think about it. " **I probably didn't, but I could have.** " She pursed her lips, concerned, before calling out. " **You're not dead up there, right?** "

After a moment of silence, during which her pulse picked up quite a bit, Dante emerged from the resulting cloud of dust, looking none the worse for wear, and propped a boot up on some of the rubble. "Might want to remember where your audience is, next time you put on a show, yeah?"

She was being chided, justified though it might be, by a man about as lackadaisical as her brother. How low was this misadventure of hers going to sink?

Keeping her face as straight as she could manage, she spoke. " **And, Trish?** "

Ever smirking, Dante cast a brief glance over his shoulder. "You managed to drop a rock on her head, she's fine." A loud groan punctuated the devil hunter's words. "And hey, otherwise great show. You win a prize." Dante slung something spherical, red, and mostly immaterial at her. "You killed it, you get to keep it. Seems fair to me." Her face must have shown confusion, because the devil hunter elaborated. "It's a Devil Arm, all that's left of that demon you killed. Great toy, I assume."

Up on the ledge Dante started dragging a rather physically abused Trish to her feet. She, for her part, immediately shunted the "Devil Arm" into the same little pocket dimension as the last one, assuming that they were the same thing. This one felt inert to her too, so she would assume there was some manner of limitation on _who_ exactly could use them. Dante likely didn't know this, as he was obviously one of the people who could, and had never met someone who couldn't. Maybe the clause was as simple as demon blood? Well, that wasn't exactly a problem she could up and solve at any point in the near future, nor did she really feel that she would want to. Her weapon was her staff and her magic, no matter how fancy of a "toy" either two Devil Arms might be. Especially since she had some inkling of an assumption that the both of them were melee weapons. She'd call it female intuition.

She turned her head slightly at a noise, to find that Dante and Trish were approaching. The latter had a rather large, bloodied matt of hair on the left side of her head. So clearly, borderline immortal or not the blonde still bled. Wait, no, she already knew that. There had been a gigantic splat of blood when she'd dropped that mini glacier of Trish before.

She grinned cheekily at the other woman. " **What was that about doubting that I could take down a greater demon?** "

Trish sent her an irritated glare. "I am not in the mood for this."

It was juvenile, but she pursed her lips and quipped immediately. " **She say that a lot, Dante?** "

The devil hunter's smirk didn't waver at all. He just rolled his eyes in a melodramatic way.

Fun not happening, and more than a little internally concerned over her 'oh he'll be fine' thoughts, she spoke up. " **Yes, well, if you're going to be helping her hobble along I think I'll just fly on ahead.** " She turned to the angelic figure already approaching. " **Deva!** "

Without needing to verbally explain her request, or waiting for either Dante or Trish to voice an objection, Deva swooped down and grabbed her around the top of her waist and behind her knees, tearing off into the shadowed skies with a mere two downwards swipes of her wings. Dante and Trish shrank into specks before she could count to three and the city of Fortuna almost immediately swelled into view, along with… a giant stone man floating over the city with an even larger halo floating behind it. She would assume this was the core of the problem, on account of the large chunks of debris floating around the creepy thing. She would normally go right for it and start hurling spells but, recent events had made her a touch shy about barreling into the unknown. For all she knew, that thing was some relic from the past that was both terrifyingly powerful and well out of her league. Well, technically those two things were one and the same, but, irrelevant.

She muttered to herself, almost not hearing her own words over the wind of her present altitude. " **Maybe I'll poke around the city while Dante helps Trish hobble her way here. Couldn't hurt, might learn something…** " A dim thought at the back of her mind prompted her to add a little more. " **Daddy always says something about this sort of thing… and I never listened.** "

She took a long, hard look at Fortuna. From the air she couldn't see any people. She could, on the other hand, see an unholy ton of demons loitering about everywhere. They didn't particularly worry her, given that she'd already proven that she could annihilate every single one without effort. But, frankly, killing demons en masse really didn't get her anything anymore. Well, she could win brownie points with Dante, convince the flippant devil hunter of her sincerity…

She muttered to herself again. " **Then again, maybe if Nero hears how much I helped he won't hate me as much?** " There was a pause as her brain mulled over her own words. " **That is completely irrational of me. Not to mention simpering and… ugh…** " She pointed towards the edge of the city, at the end of one of the roads. " **Deva, put me down there. If nothing else, I can get a fair workout from cutting through the mess.** "

Deva performed a flyby set-down before gliding off and perching on a distant steeple, doing her job without being asked. At street level though, she was given a more direct inkling of what happened to all the people. The city stank, very literally like a slaughterhouse. Here and there she could see the bodies, men and women, largely indistinct from each other on account of the formless robes, primarily sprawled out with gaping wounds in their backs. And the concentration of the dead only grew the further towards the city center she looked.

She was, honestly, no stranger to massacre given the bloody, warrior Overlord her father was. But, those were battlefields. Everyone there presumably made the choice to be there, and subsequently get gutted by her father. Civilians like this, this did get to her, Evil be damned. Worse, where were these people going to run? The forest was filled with demons too. What crackpot logic was the Order operating on?

She drew in a short breath. " **Ok, I guess that's reason enough.** " A thought floated through her head at the words about to exit her mouth, 'good gods what would daddy think?' " **Time to be a hero.** " She let out a loud whistle. " **Hey, over here all of you uglies!** "

The demons, primarily of the scarecrow variety, sluggishly turned to vacantly stare her way. This lasted for all of three seconds before the entire mob practically started tripping over themselves to rush her position. Deva shot the heads off of two before they'd closed three meters.

She raised her left hand, purple lightning already playing around her fingers. " **Of all the mad things I'd end up doing…** "

One, two, three… The demons popped into stinking, rancid clouds of black ichor as her magic arced between one to another. Without even trying she made a chain of death roughly fifty five long. The grime smeared out across the ground, mixing with the human blood and multiplying the stench by an order of magnitude. It also spattered across the human dead, perhaps offering some manner of poetic justice for the deceased. The blades, seemingly the only truly tangible parts of the demons, were flung every which way upon every expiration. They buried themselves in buildings, other demons, flew off over buildings, two or three would have hit her, if she weren't prepared for that possibility.

The tide started to thin, and she had the time to quip. " **Well, if this is as bad as it gets I have nothing to worry about.** "

Roughly thirty seconds later, she was proven right. The last of the visible demons were popped like the pus-filled blisters they amounted to. The street became eerily quiet after that, save the hauntingly convenient breeze that kicked up into to absence. Just her, the dead, and the colossus that hadn't deemed to notice her light show. She wasn't displeased with that.

Her head slowly turned, taking in what she could see. " **Where to go now?** " She slowly chewed her lower lip as she mentally fumbled for a direction. " **Nngh, this is the problem when I don't have a plan…** " Her eyes drifted to the Opera House. " **Oh why not, that's as good a place as any to go.** " Her gaze flicked up to the giant statue. " **And right in that thing's shadow. Might even be important.** " Before her feet started moving she glanced up to Deva. " **Deva, you just, fly around and shoot demons. I'll let you know if I need you directly.** "

Her faithful servant took off without a word, soaring off on a wide arc away from the floating colossus. She figured Deva would be fine, mostly on account of the flying bit. She hadn't encountered a demon that could truly fly yet, so, yeah. Besides, she was going indoors. Deva's support would be rather less valuable inside a building.

She set off, levitating herself for both the insignificant reason of not wanting to get blood and bile on her shoes, and the practical one of her being simply faster while not entirely ground-bound. She was working on true magical flight, but she'd always prioritized pure destructive capacity… Maybe she was just lazy? Apocalypse From The Sky, her giant 'laser beams,' they were 'shoot once and go home' kind of spells.

About halfway through the streets towards the Opera House she grumbled to herself. " **Didn't work very well with mister showboat…** "

All of that destructive force, and Dante had just kept slipping through the slightest gaps in her spells. To say that it was frustrating was the mother of all understatements. Particularly since it seemed to show that her method was lacking. As low as her ultimate aspirations were, comparatively, she didn't want to be the wallflower that sat around doing nothing. She wanted to at least be comparatively competent next to her familial peers…

A simple thought occurred to her. " **Maybe I'm just looking at this the wrong way. If Dante's able to slip through small gaps in my spells, then I just need to double down and make sure there are NO gaps period. I mean, it'd just be stupid trying to dodge** _ **through**_ **a fireball, right? I just wasn't going quite as hard at it as I should have.** "

Of course, there were certain extenuating circumstances that had prevented her from acting in that manner. Primarily, she hadn't wanted to annihilate her own castle. But with a different setting, with better timing, a location of her choosing… she might not have to call it quits on this world just yet. He couldn't regenerate if he were disintegrated, right? She'd put that train of thought on the back burner for now…

She arrived at the doors of the Opera House, paused, and a low key smile crossed her face. " **Right back where I started this whole mess. Pft, with hindsight I should have just erased the building once that doddering pontiff was knocked off. Dante would be dead, Nero would be dead, and I wouldn't be crushing on a boy like some simpering schoolgirl.** " She felt a flush work its way into her cheeks while she shook her head in self-disappointment. " **Ugh…** " She brought her gaze up slowly, regarding the door in front of her. " **Could start correcting history now. At least partially.** " She grinned slightly, " **Start small.** "

Her 'start small' involved blasting the doors inwards with so much magical overkill the splinters splintered till they couldn't be seen even with a microscope. There was no elemental flair to it, just force, and to her surprise, the blast induced a humanoid shriek from the interior.

Surprised, and inspired to enact her familial prerogative to be Evil, she let herself down to the ground and proceeded into the Opera House with an exaggerated swagger to her hips. " **Now, just who can get away with cowering about in the single biggest building in town?** " She cracked a devious smile. " **So many demons running around, you'd have to be in the Order to still be alive in this city. Unless you're me…** " She noted the squirrely, white-garbed man on the stage, and pointed the top of her staff at him. " **… Or an Order knight that had some work done.** " She made a show of giggling loudly. " **What's you're breed of ugly, little man?** "

Said 'little man' genuinely looked terrified. "You, you're the-"

Preemptively, she hurled a lightning bolt that erased a quarter of the stage. " **If you call me a 'witch' I swear on every Hell across every multiverse that I will drag you kicking and screaming to my father's torture dungeon and I will not rest until every fiber of your body has been liquefied, reconstituted, and then vaporized as slowly as humanly possible.** "

The man, thoroughly terrified by her vicious diatribe, stumbled back a full three meters before finding his footing. "Y, you c, can't-"

She conjured a roughly watermelon-sized fireball in her hand. " **Very, very wrong choice of words. I'm in a mood, and if all you're going to spout is pathetic, stuttering objections to my very existence then I have no time to entertain yours.** "

She drew her arm back and, completely ignoring the man's clear cry of 'wait,' she pegged the fireball square into the unidentified man's chest. The body started to fly apart in chunks, right up until the explosion caught up to those chunks and turned the whole mess into stinking ash. The fact that she blew a hole in the floor several meters deep and nearly as wide as the Opera House itself was a minor detail to her.

She made a glib remark. " **Poor soul, he burned so brightly, but so fast…** " She mulled it over for a moment, and shook her head slowly. " **I think I'll leave the one-liners to father, his voice pulls it off better.** " Slowly, as it was really the reason she'd bother to come in here, she gazed about the interior. " **Hey now, what's this?** "

Her destruction had, unintentionally, revealed a staircase in the relative back of the building. A staircase headed down. And down was the direction she would assume someone would build if they had something to hide. Then again, that would lend a bit of sense to the Order stooge cooling his heels in this building to begin with. The Order knew about her, and Dante. The now ash-man was a guard, even if she had obliterated him before he could do any of the 'guarding.'

She advanced, levitating over the crater she had created. " **Let's see where this goes…** "

The answer was down, and down, and down some more. The stair spiraled around on itself enough that her pace made her mildly dizzy for a spell, after which she slowed down, just a little bit.

At the bottom when it opened up, she was forced to pause. " **Wow, this, this is actually rather impressive.** "

The sight to make her think this was more or less the platform she now stood upon. It was suspended over an arcane vortex the likes of which she personally had never seen. Given her surroundings, and the army of demons, she didn't have to think very hard to determine that this was another Hell Gate, albeit a significantly larger and more passable one. It also seemed attuned to accept some kind of key, which she deemed irrelevant. She'd force this one closed, because why wouldn't she at this point? Key or no key, whatever it was, closing the stupid thing couldn't possibly be harder than trying to seize control over it. And once she did that… then she could go and rescue her would-be boyfriend.


End file.
